Lose Control
by Yoruyonaka Sakusha
Summary: In this relationship of anger and venting, who will lose control first? Yuki? Or Kyo? Yaoi - don't like, don't read.
1. Control

**For those of you who notice this before skipping to the latest chapter, everything's been rewritten for the heck of it. Minor details changed, so there's no real need to reread everything if you don't want to. Love you all!**

**Rating: T+  
****Disclaimer: Uhm…yeah, no.  
****Chapter Title: Control**

**--Yuki—**

Putting aside all facts after the matter, you remember that it was you who started it all.

You recall how angry you were that day – a lot more so than usual. School was making you frustrated with it's problems and events and most of all the _people_. They seemingly didn't have anything better to do than dawdle over you, and it pissed you off. Having been bottled up inside you the entire day, you were ready to bite someone's head off.

He was just standing there absently, leaning against the wall in the hallway. You remember how you purposely agitated him, starting a meaningless fight. It was simple. Innocent. You wanted to vent. He was the easiest outlet. He rose to the bait easily, though his argument was weak, and you remember how much you didn't care – how you were _glad_ he could only offer a token fight at best. The rain wasn't your fault. And you remember feeling oddly thrilled when you got him worked up enough that his eyes narrowed to catlike slits, and he grabbed the collar of your shirt. You remember wanting to fight. Wanting to push him further. Wanting to…

You're not sure why you kissed him. You don't remember telling your body to move. Hell, you expected him to be down on the ground by the time you were leaning into him. The only thing you _are_ sure of is that everything kind of… stopped. Almost as if you had cancelled each other out. Anger fizzled down and died. Frustration met satisfaction. He stared at you, shocked and unmoving.

When he finally pulled away, he pulled away slowly – not in the jerking, disgusted motion you would have expected – with a warm blush rising on his face, and you watched as he walked unsteadily down the hall and out of sight just like that. Not a word in your direction. No acknowledgement. No glance back.

Just a unsatisfied feeling that settled in the pit of your stomach.

**--Kyo—**

You remember the first time he _really _came at you. You considered the first time a fluke – a freak accident never meant to have happened and never meant to be spoken of again. The floor was slanted, there was a breeze, an invisible ghost making mischief – you didn't care. When you walked away from him the first time, you remember how you were already forcing yourself to forget it. To _make_ it the nothing that it was.

But then… the second time came around.

You don't remember if you had expected it or not. You think you had the notion that he had been watching you. You were paranoid about him staring, so it was only natural that you noticed. But when you ended up at home, his hand fisted in your shirt and holding you against a wall, you weren't really sure about anything anymore.

You don't know when you went pliant, can't remember if you put up any fight at all – where had your hot temper gone? – but you knew the second he kissed you _hard_ that you were getting into something deep. Something you couldn't quite decide whether or not you wanted to get into.

You could have ended it. Could have erased any possibility of this ever happening again. Of it being allowed. Instinct told you that this was _bad_, and _wrong_, and, more importantly, _dangerous_. Being a Sohma yourself didn't exempt you from the harsh views of the family, and being one of the zodiac would make that even worse. All it would have taken was a push; if you expressed revulsion, pushed him away, yelled at him, you could have stopped anything from happening.

You knew this.

But when he pulled away for a moment, lips brushing yours, breath running across your mouth, you leaned back, unable to stop.

So, maybe it was really you who started it.

**--Y—**

You know that things are the way they are now because of you. There is no way that this _isn't_ your doing, even if it isn't yours entirely.

Because really, you could have stopped this at any time, and that might have ended it. You remember that for a while it was _you_ who continued it. School was tough, being on the student council; accessible to all, in view of all, and everything that built up under your perfect skin boiled and itched, wanting that new outlet. Other sources of relief just didn't work now that you knew that simply kissing him was more than sufficient. If you had just stopped going to him, cut off that sort of contact with him, you're sure it would have stopped everything dead it it's tracks.

Oh, you would _try_ not to go to him. You would try not to do anything because you knew what you were doing was _wrong_. It wasn't even so much the fact that you were two boys – two related boys – as it was that you were _using_ him. He allowed it, it was convenient, and that made you feel disgusted with yourself. Made you feel dirtier than you already were. But, come time you were overworked, overstressed and pushed to the limit, you found him again.

Scarily enough, you were getting addicted.

**--K—**

For some time, you had yourself convinced that all you were going to do was receive. Your pride kept you from ever going to him the way he came to you (_forcefully and desperate)_. The fact that you didn't resist in the slightest – not from the beginning – seemed far enough. Honestly, you don't know why you let him. Despite the fact that you still hated his guts, wanted (needed) to beat him, and always fought with him, you _still_ just sat there and let him do what he wanted. It baffled you to no end, leaving you feeling guilty of sin, angry that you were allowing things to move in a direction you _knew_ it was a mistake to move in. It heckled you constantly, pressing on the back of your mind.

You let it eat away at you though, the feeling. You never thought about it. Didn't _want_ to think about it, or argue with yourself about what was right and wrong. If you thought about it, you would have to take notice of the little things. Little things that, if taken into deeper account, might add up to something neither of you could deal with. You could barely deal with it then, as it was.

So, it was no wonder, really, that the pressure eventually got to you. You were stressed. Getting angrier and more frustrated with every miserable step you took because you _knew_ what you wanted, and it pissed you off. You don't quite remember when it started, but suddenly, the idea of going to _him_ instead took purchase in your mind. You were pretty sure you were going crazy, and you hated it. Hated the way that you were waiting for him to come to you – hated the way you didn't want to wait. Like an itch, it tortured you until you could take no more.

You were angry. You had been forced to stay after school under disciplinary purposes that involved you, a window, and a broom with a loose head. You gave the broom a twirl, busying your hands so you wouldn't punch the annoying boys assigned to clean with you, and the thing went flying. It was unfair, seeing as how none of it had been your fault, and walking home, you mind was simmering – the need for action taking over what enraged thoughts you had.

On impulse, you barged into his room. On impulse, you ignored – or rather, blatantly disregarded – his dissent. He was busy. Didn't have time to be messing with you. It was quite clear within a few moments that he would be _making_ time. You manhandled him rather spectacularly, considering the many times you failed to even lay a hand on him. His back was flat on the bed, arms pinned where you held them at the wrist, and before you could think that this was finalizing it, that this wasn't good or that this was the next step – on an _impulse_ that never should have been – you claimed his mouth with your own.

All thoughts, all complaints or struggle or reason, stopped there.

Looking back, you have no clue what took over you. You had never been the aggressor of any kiss, and the fact that you would suddenly turn the tables and know how to do so without awkwardly stumbling through seemed awfully clichéd. You suppose, though, that it's your nature to just charge right into things, instinct taking over where you lacked. You touched on the fact that it was probably _him_ who gave you precedent to follow.

It certainly was similar, the way you both dealt with the other. He would hold you down, restraining you even if you didn't struggle at first, similar to the way you were holding him down to his own mattress. Somewhere along the line, it became clear that fighting didn't necessarily rejection. Just another way to make this a little less than what it was.

You're grateful for it now that the roles are reversed. In a way, you want him to fight you. By denying him freedom, you're challenging him to try and stop you. The more a fight it was, the more you could pretend it really _was_ a fight. More than that, though, is the fact that you don't want him to be able to reciprocate to the point where he can touch you beyond your consent.

Because that would make it something entirely different.

And maybe it was all about the control for you. Maybe from the beginning, it was all about having power over him, being able to retaliate in some form for all the attacks you had undergone and be above him. Be stronger. Gripping loose limbs that don't need restricting, it might even be likened to the fact that you've lost a substantial amount of control over this entire situation, and need to exert it over what little things you can.

Like his wrists. His body. His lips.

**Review for me plz? Tell me if there are any mistakes.**


	2. More

****

**For those of you who notice this before skipping to the latest chapter, everything's been rewritten for the heck of it. Minor details changed, so there's no real need to reread everything if you don't want to. Love you all!**

**Rating: T+  
****Disclaimer: I do not own it 8P  
****Chapter Title: More (-_-;)**

**--Yuki—**

You know without needing to be told that this is a fragile situation. Stable as it may seem with the supposed simplicity of your intent, you know that it could fall apart in so many ways with a word or a careless touch. It's precariously balanced, you know, and you make sure that every time you come into contract with him or speak to him, it is under control. Every word deliberate. Every emotion exactly what it should be. It's not much of a challenge, seeing as how you've had a lot of practice in the game of make-believe. All you have to do is pretend that nothing is going on around others, or even when it's just you and him. It's easy, what with his predictable behavior, and the unspoken agreement between the two of you certainly helps.

You do have to check yourself, though. Your act is _not_ perfect, as much as you (and everyone else) would like to believe, and in front of others you have to watch yourself – not _him_. For whatever reason, without really any intention whatsoever, you've begun to stare at him. Your mind is drawn to him. Your eyes seek him out. It's a strange, spontaneous reaction that you have no real way to manage.

You can't help but admit, though, that you're rather intrigued by him. You're finding him interesting to watch. His interaction with others. He's grown confident in himself, but you enjoy the fact that you can still see telltale signs of his social instability. His awkwardness, though subtle, has never quite left him. When he's aware of you, especially, you find yourself watching him closely out of the corner of your eye. You don't fail to notice the stiffness that wasn't always there (and on occasion, neither does Tohru).

Really, that you have an affect on him like this is rather appealing to you, as, you suppose, it always has been. There was never any other rationale behind why you gave way to fights with him, or stayed near him even when it wasn't necessary. If you had never really wanted to be around him, it was easily within your power to make sure you had as little contact as possible. But that's not the case; sometimes you want him to react to you to the point where you're almost egging him on – being near him _just_ to see him get angry.

That's not to say you don't also enjoy those rare times when the air is comfortable between you. Both of you on equal ground and equal understanding, tolerating each other quietly.

You didn't _like_ him though. No, you did not. It was a curiosity with him like so many other seemed to have – swarming to him like moths to a fire. You didn't look at him in a romantic way, not even now when you know that an hour ago you were holding him against a wall, kissing him. You don't like him, you tell yourself. You like his body (_"Disgusting, your heart says. "Disgusting."_) for the discharge he gave you, and that was all.

When you go to him, it's always in raw emotion. Raw frustration. Anger. You make sure of it. You make sure it's never just because you want to touch his skin, or feel his lips move against yours, loose and submissive or hard and demanding. Never because you want to. Never.

But still, you're worried.

You know (_knew_) that maybe, after a while, a kiss wouldn't be enough for you. That maybe, after a little while, you'd start to want something more.

**--Kyo—**

The fact that you kiss each other to vent doesn't change your attitudes. You make sure of that much, at least. You feel him fall into the familiar habit of fighting you and hating you, and you follow behind. Your bickering worries, as always, the other two members of the house, which often gives way to more bickering just because of that. Hot words are shared, uncertain pleas for you to stop fall between the two of you, and threats to your bank accounts are made for any damages to the house. In a roundabout way, it's all as normal as it's ever been.

So normal, in fact, that sometimes you get a little bewildered by the fact that behind closed doors you push one another against a wall in anger, forcibly and thoroughly ravaging the mouth before you even while the houses other two occupants move about downstairs. He seems so unchanged by everything that you can't help but wonder _how _he does it. You certainly don't know how to so casually sit beside or across from him without feeling awkward, though you hide it as best you can. Maybe if you would put just a _little_ thought into it, you could fall into some sort of acceptance with it. But you don't, and your feelings of unrest only disappear in those moments that you both hide so carefully.

Still, you always manage to keep up your act, though you're nowhere as good as he is. No one seems to be the wiser, not even Shigure – and _that_ was saying something – and that's exactly how you want it. If others found out, it might be the end of you. Humiliation, guilt, fear – it all hints at your senses every time you almost slip up, reminding you of the road you've taken and the consequences that might lie ahead.

He's the same as ever, though, what foreshadowing hints there are remaining unrecognizable for what they really mean. He's so good at keeping up his act… and to be honest, you're thankful for that. It makes it that much easier to fall into step with him, balancing out your own actions with his. Especially during fights. You hardly need to think about it. It's just heated speech. They occur often enough, and you find that to be a good thing, because it helps you to vent just a little bit, and you can stay away from him that much longer.

But you can never _really_ stay away, can you?

**--Y—**

The goal you aimed for wasn't the one that you achieved. He was being annoying, getting worked up about little things that maybe weren't so little, and you were getting fed up. The two of you were alone, as you remember it; Tohru was out shopping, Shigure out avoiding his editor. All you wanted for him was to shut up, really. You yelled at each other – yeah, _you_ actually yelled. He was stubborn, adamant in his opinions, and that only served to make you angrier as he scoffed your every word. He was getting a rise out of you, you knew, but your blood was hot that day and you quarreled with him easily. Frustration rose. You felt like hitting him. _Hard_.

Then you felt that boiling itch under your skin, and you knew exactly what it meant.

Fighting was normal. Fists flew less often, yes, but the two of you never seemed to get tired of verbal sparring. And that's all it ever _was_. A fight. It wasn't as if you wrestled – you were trained in martial arts, and that's the only way you ever fought – and it never, _ever_ became sexual. Whenever you sought the other out or vice-versa, it was completely random. In a weird way, it was business, and your personal relations never got involved. It was always because of an outside force. Never because you were angry at the other. It was another unspoken agreement to just not go there. However, the agrier you got, the more it boiled, and the tension got the better of you.

You shoved him and he fell back onto the couch with a soft 'umph'. He snarled at you as you towered over him, swearing as you seized a wrist, one knee settling between his legs. His other hand was pressing painfully into your side, fingers clenching in your shirt, still caught up in the fight and noticing the change until you fisted a hand in his hair, jerking his head back sharply to look up at you directly. He wavers then, realizing what you're doing, his struggling muscles pausing for a brief second while you lean imposingly against him.

Then you kiss him, and you can't help but notice the fact that this is a lot better than just hitting or insulting him. You relish in the way his mouth opens almost willingly as you take complete advantage of your grip on his hair to angle him back and kiss him all the more deeply. He doesn't succumb completely; he's still pushing you away, struggling under your hold slightly, kissing back not quite willingly enough. You press into him, using your body to hold him down sufficiently. Your grip is tight, a little too tight, and you realize that you want it to hurt just a little to get back at him for being such a hot head. Realize that you want to force yourself onto him until he's completely submissive under you. His free hand is still fisted in your shirt, nails biting your skin, but his resolve is dropping and you can feel it until he's not so much pushing you away as holding you back. His groan is almost inaudible. Almost.

Neither of you ever made noise. Not ever. For whatever reason, it was another line that the two of you unconsciously drew. Besides the wet sound of lips parting and coming together, clothes rustling, and that low, adrenaline induced rush in the ears, noise was never emitted.

This is the first time he's slipped up, and you can _feel_ it as well as hear it in low vibration against your chest as it rises up his throat. You quite nearly let out a moan in response – the sound surprisingly appealing – but this is still too much of a fight for you, and you're not willing to give in just yet. Instead, you tug his hair a little harder, testing him. He doesn't slip up again and bites you sharply in annoyance.

It sends a jolt down your spine, the taste of blood already on your tongue.

And then Honda-san is home, struggling noisily with one too many bags in her hand as she opens the door, giving you two plenty of time to separate and send fiery glares at one another. It doesn't give you enough time to wipe away the blood you only just realize is trickling down from the cut on your lip, though, and the poor girl practically drops her bags when she sees it dripping off your chin.

"Y-Yuki-kun! Are you alright!? What happened?" You guess her worry is understandable, seeing as how you practically never get hurt. You wipe the blood away, a little irked to find that the cut won't stop bleeding.

"I'm fine, Honda-san." You reassure her. "It's just a small cut."

Kyo hurries to help her carry the bags while you lick your lip and follow them into the kitchen, where she presses again as to what happened. You're about to say you cut your lips when she exclaims:

"Kyo-kun, you're bleeding too!" she pulls him a little closer by the sleeve to stare at his mouth worriedly, where a few smudges of blood are just barely visible. "Were you two fighting again?"

You pause where you stand at the sink, paper napkin to your lip, hoping Kyo will just go along with it. You're sure it wouldn't go well if Honda-san knew the blood on his mouth is actually _yours_.

"So what?" He grumbles, brushing her off to put away groceries as he swipes his tongue over the red stains. They're gone in moments. "It's not like he didn't deserve it."

Honda-san frowns, and you give him a disapproving glare that you hope he can feel through the back of his skull. He's only going to worry her more if he keeps it up. "It was a lucky shot." You say dismissively, leaning back against the sink to gauge his reaction quietly. You notice his ears turn a little pink.

"You were wide open." He retorts, and you're just a little surprised. You wouldn't have thought he'd offer a verbal spar over _this_ in front of _anyone_.

"I think _I_ was rather _on top_ of the situation." You say, vaguely aware that you want to embarrass him. You notice him fumble a little with the next bag, and have to control a smirk threatening to rise on your face.

"Really. I would've thought you'd have more experience being _bottom_." Now _that_ makes you twitch. You have to take enough crap having girly looks at it is – you don't need _him_, of all people, adding to that. You're about to snap back at him, but Honda-san cuts in.

"U-um… I think the two of you have equal skills!" She tries, looking rather confused. "You should take turns being top and bottom!"

You both nearly choke. The brunette starts a little, surprised by the strange reactions you have, but can't possibly understand the meaning of what she just said. Before any more damage can be done, he makes a noncommittal sound before leaving the room quickly, not looking at either of you.

"Oh! N-not that you should fight with each other!" She exclaims, looking desperate to fix the situation. You reassure her quietly, telling her it's fine while you help her put away the last of the groceries.

**Review plz? Tell me if there are any mistakes.**


	3. Withdrawal

**For those of you who notice this before skipping to the latest chapter, everything's been rewritten for the heck of it. Minor details changed, so there's no real need to reread everything if you don't want to. Love you all!**

**Rating: T+  
Disclaimer: Not mine.  
Chapter Title: Withdrawal**

**--Kyo—**

You are angry with yourself. Mortified. You don't know what happened to make him jump you – when the hell did it get sexual? – and you don't know why the fuck you didn't push him off right then before it could get worse. All you know is that he _did_, you _didn't_, and within a minute you managed to embarrass yourself, dig your grave _that_ much deeper. You made a sound – a fucking _groan_, no less – and all because he was fucking _touching_ you a little more than normal. This whole situation's been fucked up from the very beginning, and you know it's only one small difference between all the other times he's kissed you, but you can't help but wonder how many lines you'll end up crossing if you stay the way you are.

You wish this could be some insignificant little thing that you can just push to the back of your mind and ignore, but it isn't. It's not something you can just pretend isn't happening, and it's not something you can allow without feeling some sort of qualm. It's _affecting_ you, small as it might be, and it's a _problem_. Because you know now that every time you fight with him, even if it's just a petty argument, that unbearable _tension_ will be there, both of remembering that _one_ time, and both of you will be wondering who'll be the first to snap. Your mind will jump to it, willingly or not, and you'll remember that all you need to do to shut him up is kiss him.

Again, you press your face into your pillow, resisting the urge to do something violent, stomach curling in on itself with the thought of his fingers in your hair and body pressed into you. You don't want to think about it. You won't think about it.

(_not yet_)

**--Yuki—**

You can tell that he's been avoiding you. He's there, but the moment you start getting frustrated or angry – and you don't know how he can tell you are, since you hide it just like everything else – he's gone until you've calmed down, or until you're in a group again. Unable to do anything. It's annoying the hell out of you, but you think you know why, even if you can't say for sure.

Kissing him like that was definitely over-stepping _some_ kind of boundary. It was a bit more physical than the rest, and you can't ignore the fact that you're actually anticipating the next fight. As much as going to him when you're frustrated gets that extra energy out of you, attacking him like that when you're both angry and passionate and _fighting_ is satisfying – more so than you want to admit.

And you know it affected him. He doesn't show it much, and has adopted a rather bored expression whenever faced with difficult situations like the ones you've been getting into, but you can tell by the way he watches you out of the corner of his eye. The way he refuses to touch you. And now, how you're sure he's avoiding you.

And you, in return, are starting to seek him out. It's unintentional at first; your eyes automatically tracking his movements, wondering when he might disappear again. It's a little sad, seeing as how it's only been three days, but by the third, you're looking for him in earnest. You _want_ him. Want to kiss him – and the fact that he's actually _evading_ you makes it all the more desirable.

You know this isn't a good thing. Know that having that kind of want for him is bad, and it goes through your mind that just maybe you should let it be – let it work out of your system so everything can go back to normal. However, on the sixth day you are ignoring such thoughts. You doubt that there's a 'normal' to go back to, anyway, and that need for release has you uncharacteristically catering to what your desires are before thinking of anything else.

So, you ask around politely and casually, easily getting what information you want out of your adoring peers without breaking a sweat. They all love you and the perfect image they've cast on you, and there's no reason that you shouldn't take advantage of that once in a while.

You figured that one of his hang-outs would be the roof – you've interrupted his moments up there many times before – but you also find that he's been spotted sitting in empty classrooms during lunch and free period throughout the school year – specifically the art room. Which you think is typical, really, since you can't see the cat enjoying sitting in a normal classroom _without_ the large windows overlooking the school grounds.

When he isn't in class during study hall, you decide to go find him, venturing up the stairs to the fourth floor, stopping in front of the art room door. It isn't all the way shut, and you slide it the rest of the way open. For a second, you don't see anyone. Easels are set up all around the room, silhouetted against midday sky. After a moment, though, your eyes focus with the lighting in the room, and there he is.

He's sitting cross-legged on the larger than normal windowsill you're sure is there just for that purpose. His head is turned away from you, leaning against the wall with his hands folded over his stomach, looking rather comfortable and at peace. Sunlight being the only light source in the room with the lights turned off, you're given the odd image of him giving off a glow himself.

When he turns his head and spots you where you've paused for a moment in the doorway, you can see his shoulders stiffen up, alert and nervous. His legs unfold and he sits up a little, but other than that he makes no indication that he's about to leave. Now is the time to make a move, and you know that you're about to break on of your _own_ rules. You told yourself that you wouldn't go to him because you _want_ to. You aren't mad. You aren't angry. Sure, your stress level is a little high at the moment, but other than that, you have absolutely no reason to be here searching him out.

So you hesitate, and you both exist there awkwardly for a moment, just staring at each other.

Then his face changes from watchful to uncaring; that uninterested look ghosting over his features as he rolls his head back to rest against the wall. "Well?" He says. "If you don't want anything get out."

You're sure he's well aware of what he's offering.

You slide the door closed behind you and walk towards him. With every step you take a warm pressure builds up in your chest, and you have to struggle for a moment to keep your pace even. It's anticipation – the past week without so much as touching him has put you into something of a withdrawal, and you can only hope that he doesn't notice that you aren't coming to him for the right reasons. Hope he doesn't know this is changing things for you. You have never been more thankful that you know how to put on a façade and keep it there.

He tenses slightly again as you near him, giving you an almost guarded glare, but his chin tips up when you lean in to meet your mouth, so at least you know he's done avoiding all contact with you.

A sense of relief washes over you, like a weight being lifted off your chest, and you press into him a little harder. You wonder faintly why you waited a week to do this. His mouth is warm, open under yours yet again almost invitingly. You have to resist the urge to touch him – to pull him closer to you so that more than just your lips are touching. You know that if you did, it would probably be pushing it too far, and after a week of him barely looking at you, you don't feel the need to chase him away again just yet.

**--K—**

The bell rings and you're rather thankful to leave the room. You didn't think he would actually look for you. Didn't think he would persist like that. You're glad the room was dark, because you have no idea what kind of face you were making after that. You felt a definite lack of his hands on your wrists, taking away the reassurance that this is remaining what it should be. You didn't even fight him – fucking frozen there while you let him kiss you. Hell, you thought it might actually be _over_ between the two of you after the fifth day, and your feelings couldn't be more conflicted.

You don't know what to do.

At the thought of not touching him like that again – of going back to the way things were supposed to be without kissing him or _anything_ – and you get a horrible sense of…regret, or some weird emotion that shouldn't be there, and definitely shouldn't have surfaced. You should feel anger. He's _using_ you. You know that better than anyone, since you're doing the same thing. Having him just walk out and act like nothing ever happened – you're sure something like that should piss you off. Instead, you felt a kind of loss, and that's enough to make you sick. This is wrong. This is bad.

The things you _should_ be feeling are the ones that come lightly. When you kiss him, at the back of your mind a guilt rushes in. You feel unrest. Shaken. It takes a backseat to what's happening right there in front of you, though, and you get far too caught up in the moment to take notice of it until afterwards; even then, though, you turn it into something else: disgust. But even _that's_ in the wrong direction. Instead of feeling revulsion at what should matter – you're kissing your _male cousin_ for gods sake_ –_ you only feel disgust at the knowledge that you're using each other. Potentially hurting one another. Making it harder –

And there you go again, refusing to think about things.

The fact is: you are starting to want it. You feel that uncontrollable urge to kiss him, or have him kiss you, and you've no idea how to deal with such a feeling that goes outside of simply finding a way to vent. If that wasn't enough, it's now plain and obvious that he craves that contact with you as much as you're starting to. You've no longer any control over any of this. You know you should end it. You know you _should've_ ended it a while ago. But each time an opportunity comes along, you don't do anything.

And maybe that's what scares you the most.

**Review plz? Tell me if there are any mistakes.**


	4. Distance

******For those of you who notice this before skipping to the latest chapter, everything's been rewritten for the heck of it. Minor details changed, so there's no real need to reread everything if you don't want to. Love you all!**

******Rating: T+  
****Disclaimer: Don't own it. Ha ha.  
****Chapter Title: Distance**

**--Yuki—**

When you wake up from a rather... lively dream about him, you realize what a dangerous thing this is. You want it – that idea has already established itself in your mind and you aren't denying it. You're addicted to the feel of his lips and the taste of his mouth/ But now, you're starting to crave more, just like you knew you would. You want to touch him. You want a lot of things, and your subconscious mind is starting to grow bolder.

You certainly aren't allowed it though. That much is obvious. You thought you had accepted it. To push it any further would be going in too deep. Far too deep. You don't have a clue what might lie at the end of that path, and it's risky enough that you _know _you should not take it. You are starting to think of it more often, though, the thoughts jumping unbidden to your mind in the form of daydreams and fantasies that happen at the most inappropriate times. That forbidden fruit is within your reach, and the more you stare at it, the more tempting it becomes. It's taking a fair amount of control to not simply take it (though you seriously doubt you'd get far enough without him stopping you).

As embarrassing as it is to admit, you are quite lost in this area. Honestly speaking, you've no idea what to do, or how to pursue him, or anything like that. You never really liked girls the way most teenage boys did. They were an object of stress and danger to you, so you kept your distance. Sure, they were attractive enough, but your upbringing has long since obscured your sense of what 'pretty' is, so the thought is nothing but a passing notion. Boys were easier to be around; your guard doesn't have to be up, nor do you need to worry as much about confessions and the way you speak. You never liked a boy, though (never having took Haru seriously). In fact, you've never really liked anyone. After the first time you lost your friends, you closed yourself off much more from the world, and people who started calling you 'prince', keeping their distance, didn't help.

So, you think, maybe _that's_ why you enjoy the sexual contact with him. You certainly don't think you like him, that's for sure. You just have, during a majority of your life, lacked physical contact with pretty much _anyone_. Your mother abandoned you. Akito isolated you. You isolated _yourself_. To top it off, you were sickly to start with, and wrapped in that world, not only could you not touch anyone, but nobody could touch you.

You stop your train of thought there, though. You don't feel like getting yourself depressed at the moment.

There is a definite _something_ else there, though. Different from liking, and different from wanting. You aren't quite sure what it is, but the closest thing you can liken it to is the feeling of being… special, in a way. You are certain that the cat has never had a girlfriend. You are also quite positive that he has never kissed anyone, really, before you. You are the only one who has touched him in such a way, and it makes you feel different from everyone else in a way you don't mind. This is your secret alone, and you aren't sharing with anyone.

That leads right to the ever imposing question though. You have your reasons, messed up as they are, but what about him? Why would he let you do that to him in the first place? It was your place to fight him. Your place to hate him. He had made that clear long ago, and both of you had abided by this rule fine until Honda-san showed up. You noticed the small changes in him, sure. How he wouldn't try to start fights with you as much, and how he opened up just a bit more. You suppose that the same happened to you too. But you know that no matter how she changed your lives, there is no way she could have induced this kind of behavior.

You're not quite sure Honda-san would approve of this kind of thing anyway…

Sighing (and finally calmed down), you slide from your bed to get a drink of water before trying to get a little more sleep. You've thought about it enough for now, and you doubt you'll ever know why he let this thing start with you. You're sure his reasons are purely physical – nothing more, nothing less. You are using him, so he's using you.

You don't connect the tightening in your chest to this last thought.

**--Kyo—**

There is an instinct inside of you telling you to run away. You don't know where it comes from or why it fills your mind so insistently. All you know is that you are feeling threatened by something you can't see or touch. There is no evading an oncoming attack, while that the same time there's no evidence an attack is even coming. But you _can_ feel it there. Every time you wake up, you need to keep that guard up. Every time you look at him, every time you think of him, there needs to be _something_ there, separating the two lives with blurred lines and edges so that you don't need to bother wondering where one stops and the next begins. You know what's going on though.

Your mind is demanding thought – more than that – it's demanding _change_.

You don't _want_ to think though. You don't want to _change_. You don't want to change all the fundamentals of this now fucked up situation, even if it tears you up more inside every passing day because at least _now_ you can _pretend_ that everything is fine.

Honestly, you don't know where this desperate want of 'sameness' comes from. There is this fear of change and rational thought inside you – one that has been burned into your skin and memory over years past your existence. It sits in you, demanding you follow it blindly. Your knowledge of it is small – there has always been some sort of foreign part of you that you can't (_won't_) understand – the most you can do is acknowledge it as some sort of forged emotion. Past that, though, you're unsure. If nothing else, the thought of change has been painted dark colors and stands so ominous against your heart that you've no backbone to go against this fear.

You won't change. You won't think.

You'll save that for later.

**--Y—**

"You're so unpleasant." You mutter, back turned to him. He's being a jerk again, getting angry and overreacting over little things, and you're done trying to deal with him. It sucks because you thought the two of you had been on decent terms lately, but here you are, at the end of 2nd period with him following you as you walk down the hall, unable to just drop it.

"What was that!?" He snarls at you, indignant as ever. "Just because _you_ let those girls fawn all over you doesn't mean _I_ have to!"

"And that_ doesn't _mean you need to scare them senseless!" You shoot back. Honestly, you could care less about how he treats girls, but seeing as how you're the student council president, you think you should since you'll only receive complaints about his behavior anyway. You're annoyed with him as well, though, so it's possible you just want to make him mad.

"Don't tell me what to do, rat! Why the hell should I go out of my way to be nice to _them_!?"

"You don't go out of your way to be nice to _anyone_." Which isn't completely true, you know, but you can't stand the fact that he always denies _everyone_ of at least some friendly chatter. He has a real chance to seem normal around people, yet he throws it away. "That's why no one gets close to you."

_Wham_

Without warning, a palm slams against the row of lockers you're walking by, inches from your face. You give a little start at the violent action – you didn't think this one would turn into a fist fight – and have to stop walking to avoid being clotheslined. Given no other option with his body trapping you there (and not wanting to start a scene), you turn to give him an exasperated look, but freeze once you catch his eyes. They're extremely catlike, pupils drawn into mere slits, and smoldering with intensity as he leans in slightly, keeping them locked on yours. You unconsciously shrink back, momentarily intimidated by such an angry look, breath catching in your chest as an anticipative shiver runs down your spine. You can't look away.

"_I don't want them to get close, fucking rat_." He growls in a low, threatening voice before shoving viciously away from you and stalking off.

Your initial reaction is to stand there, eyebrows raised, still just a little shaken. It's been a long time since you've gotten a look _that_ fierce, and you're surprised at his rather vehement outburst. You must have hit a soft spot unintentionally – you know you didn't push _that_ hard (at least not on purpose) – but you're a little unsure of just _what_ spot that might have been.

You don't have time to think of it there, though. People are staring at you, and you don't feel like looking as bothered as you feel. So, you give a half-hearted sigh for the watching audience before walking off to your next class.

No one seems to feel the need to ask what that was about. It's normal.

Perfect as usual.

**--K—**

You know he doesn't get it.

Still, you couldn't help it. The fact that he didn't automatically just understand made you all the more pissed off, and the fact that you were letting him get to you when he wasn't even _trying_ managed to piss you off even more. Why should he get it though? He's just the stupid rat. He doesn't understand anything.

Probably.

So here you sit: alone again on the roof with nothing other than passing birds to keep you company. You know you shouldn't be skipping class since Tohru will worry and you'll get another mark on your record, but you can't really bring yourself to care. The air up here feels nice, and being in high places has always had a calming affect on you. Besides, you don't want to see anyone right now.

You've told yourself you won't think about it.

Still…

It makes you _angry_.

And terribly lonely.

The thing is – and maybe that idiot rat has forgotten this one little fact – you're the _cat._ You are cursed with it's vengeful spirit and something else so revoltingly grotesque that your own mother killed herself. Your family – the almighty Sohma famly won't forgive you for being like that. All these people around you, all these places and things and animals are just going to disappear. _You're_ going to disappear. Has that jerk forgotten that you're not meant to be close to _anyone_ because you don't even have a _future_? Because you sure haven't forgotten. You'll never forget. You can't.

Right before your eyes, time continues to run out. You can see it falling through your fingers like water, going faster and faster until it's almost gone. Every time you have to think of _him_, you get yourself confused and it makes desperate fear in you grow. Hell, are you really _wanting_ him? Do you think you can work yourself into a relationship like this without hurting someone? You want to believe that maybe this will have an affect on him. Some stupid, idiotic part of you actually wants to believe that when you go into that cage, he'll actually _care_.

But you can't believe in that. You're afraid to believe in that.

This is how things are supposed to work. You shouldn't get too close to anyone. Not your family. Not any of your friends. Your so-called family is only waiting around to see you get put away in some dark, lifeless room for the rest of your life. Your friends can only get hurt the closer you get to them.

You are an existence made up of sacrifice.

**Review plz? Tell me if there are any mistakes.**


	5. Fixation

******For those of you who notice this before skipping to the latest chapter, everything's been rewritten for the heck of it. Minor details changed, so there's no real need to reread everything if you don't want to. Love you all!**

**Rating: T+  
Dislaimer: It's not mine. Sorry  
Chapter Title: Fixation**

**--Yuki—**

You don't talk to him for a day or so. Every time you saw him it looked like he was brooding over something, looking ready to bite someone's head off if they bugged him. So you let him alone, not wanting to start some huge fight (though the prospect of it turning into something _else_ makes you shiver), and you _were_ planning on leaving him be for another day, but _that_ idea went down the drain the second you woke up this morning.

To start off, it wasn't that bad. Sure, you stubbed your toe walking dazedly to the bathroom, but that wasn't anything new. Later, though, when you found you'd packed the wrong books for school, forgotten lunch money, and got a love letter in your locker asking you to meet (and disappoint) them that afternoon, you figured the rest of the day wouldn't be too good. Towards the end of the day, in the student council room, Nao and Manabe went at it again, Kimi only serving to help fuel their contradicting fires (probably intentionally). You and Machi – thank god for her – managed to get most of the work done through all the noise before chaos ensued. Nao got fed up, left the room with an impressive shove to Manabe's shoulder, and the idiot went stumbling into the desk you had been working at. All the paperwork, still unstapled and loose-leaf, went flying everywhere, leaving the rest of the day at a virtual dead end.

To say the least, you were planning on venting your frustration when you got home.

So, when Haru and Momiji announce on the way out of school that, since they haven't been over in a while, they're going to be accompanying you home, you find yourself drawing a blank while Honda-san asks what they'd like to eat. You've no reason you can give to refuse them, and it would be strange – not to mention rude – of you to just tell them you didn't want them over. With them in the house… you doubt you'll be able to get the cat alone, seeing as how it'd be dangerous since neither Haru_ or _Momiji are known for staying out of others' business.

So you'll wait until they leave. No big deal right?

Right…

**--??—**

You aren't worried about them, really. It's Yuki and Kyo – you know very well that they can take care of themselves. You haven't heard any signs of damage being done to the house, either, so you know the aren't fighting with one another. It strikes you as a little odd, though, that the two of them would disappear upstairs at the same time, especially when guests are over. The quiet that you encounter at the foot of the stairs seems somehow…off. Out of place, like maybe it shouldn't really be there. Whatever it is, you get the urge to go up the stairs and find out for yourself what strangeness you are sensing. You don't really notice that your footsteps fall quietly almost automatically, and don't think to call out a name or anything to announce your oncoming presence. You didn't think there would be a need.

You pause in your ascent when you hear an angry whisper. Whispers usually meant secrets, right? Curiosity piqued, you follow the instinct to move slowly until the hallway comes into better view, and you are met with the sight of it's two occupants at the end of it. Yuki and Kyo.

Very close to each other…?

At first, it looks like a fight. Kyo certainly has the expression of someone ready to explode, and there's nothing unusual about his close proximity to Yuki. He's got the predictable glare on his face, and you watch as his fist finds a more than usual place gripping the others collar. It does look a bit as if he's holding back, no clenched hand raised in preparation for a punch, but he's been better about fighting recently, so you can't put anything on that.

It's Yuki you notice a…difference to. That bored, exasperated look you're used to seeing on his face is gone, replaced with an aware kind of tone. Haughty. Expectant. It looks to you like he's almost _challenging_, even, like he's trying to egg Kyo on. His eyes are right on Kyo's, staring into them even when he's forced back into the wall with a muffled thud.

"Don't push me." You hear Kyo whisper angrily – which strikes you as odd. He was always first to yell, and what reasons did he have to whisper anyway?

You watch as they stare each other down, and you have to wonder what it is you're missing here. This isn't a fight. Or at least, it's not a normal one. Only a few little things are off, but you can't help but notice that there is something _very_ different about the air around them. The tension didn't speak of fists about to fly, or words to be shouted. It spoke of…

Then Kyo's hand is shifting, moving to grip Yuki's chin, jerking his head up to –

Your eyes widen. You have to consider the option that maybe you're seeing things. That this isn't _really_ what it looks like, like one of those pictures that show people without limbs or with extra heads when really the picture was just taken at the right angle at the right time. This is _Yuki_ and _Kyo_. Rat and Cat. Why would they… but you find yourself without many options to consider, especially since you can clearly _see_ everything.

You know it's wrong and invasive, but you watch for a moment. It's outlandish, and it's lifting up some unpleasant emotions in you, but you watch nonetheless. Watch as Yuki's wrist is grabbed and forced onto the wall. Watch as Kyo pushes into him dominantly, Yuki submitting to him without struggle. The images imprint themselves momentarily into your eyes, and you finally look away.

You duck safely out of their view, turning around. You walk down the stairs, mentally pushing all thoughts and pictures from your mind for you to read into later. With that, you walk back into the room with the others, greeting them as you normally do with the bottle of water safely in your hand. You interact with everyone as you normally do, ignoring the somehow casual way Yuki and Kyo return back downstairs, one after the other. At the moment, at least, you would rather this little secret you've found stay a secret.

**--Kyo—**

It's annoying. Extremely fucking _annoying_. You don't want to be thinking about this _now_, of all times. He's not even _near _you – 3 desks away, 2 in front – and yet you're thinking about him. It's class time. Time to pay attention before you end up getting bad grades and watch the teacher flick her skinny wrists (weaker than his, but not much thinner) across the blackboard. You should be paying attention to the things she's writing, but that would involve you looking up, and at the side of your view would be that stupid, ugly gray hair that you _don't _want to see.

So, instead, you stare at your desk, following what she's saying with your own version of the blackboard on your paper. This serves a problem too, seeing as how you can't quite focus on her voice what with your mind straying over to your current problem. Glancing up at the board to get back on track only has your peripheral vision picking up on that stupid gray color, and you revert your eyes back to your desk with an uttered swear.

It doesn't help that you're getting strange looks.

You wonder if maybe you should excuse yourself from the room so you can go bash your delusional head into a wall in peace. Or just break something. _Anything_ so that you can get that troubling, strange feeling off your skin.

You have unwillingly become aware of a distinct…hunger; it tends to rise whenever you touch him, making your skin feel hot and bothered. You want to touch him _more_. To feel some sort of contact that isn't just a casual brush of skin or accidental bump. It's irritating and irrational, but you find yourself unable to get it out of your mind if he's in the immediate area. You can't fight it, and lying to yourself just makes you sound more pathetic that you already are. It would be fine if it was still that strange, implacable prickling, but as it is, you've named it without meaning to.

What's worse, it comes to you at the most inappropriate times – choosing moments when you should be feeling exactly the opposite (or when you're in freaking _class_) to surface – making your mouth go dry and your fingers itch.

Hell, it's not like he even _knows_. Yet he can still use it to his advantage. You were pissed at him, weren't you? For trying to start a fight and get you going (you can tell when he tries, though it doesn't affect much seeing as how _that_ just makes you angrier). You were trying to _escape_ from all the noise downstairs. Fuck – the cow and the god damned rabbit were _right there_, not to mention Tohru and Shigure – and he – well, you don't know exactly what he did, really, but he did _something_ because the next moment it wasn't an argument anymore. Against the wall he went, and he fixed you with that _look_ that was just _asking_ for it – arrogant and challenging. In a split second, that stupid craving took over, and you silenced him in a way only _you_ could.

When class finally ends, you're relieved, if only a little, because your next class isn't with him, and you have a chance to push him to the back of your mind – where he _should_ be.

**Review plz? Tell me if there are any mistakes.**


	6. Examination

******For those of you who notice this before skipping to the latest chapter, everything's been rewritten for the heck of it. Minor details changed, so there's no real need to reread everything if you don't want to. Love you all!**

**Rating: T+  
Disclaimer: I, sadly, do not own Fruits Basket or it's characters.  
Chapter Title: Examination**

**--??—**

You don't know how you failed to notice it earlier on. No, you aren't in the same year as them, and no, you don't have any classes with them other than lunch, but now that you _know_ and you're _watching_ them, you can see the signs. It perplexes you, really, since you somehow feel that you _should_ have known. Their actions around each other have changed slightly – what abnormalities there are equally hard to find in both of them – but those little changes are _there_ and suddenly seem to make all the difference.

Most noticeable is certainly the air around them. Sure, you only see them at lunch and when you invite yourself over to their house, and it isn't like you ever particularly paid attention to the mood hovering around Yuki and Kyo (it was always the same, anyway), but again, it's _there_. There's a discomfort of some sort, one that they don't quite seem to know how to get rid of besides acting normal. That 'leave me alone' tension is gone, replaced with an anxious, almost worried pressure.

You can feel it the most when they're near to each other. Kyo purposely never looks at Yuki. You see him keeping tabs on where he is, though, watching in his sidelong vision whenever he moves. His eyes always remain down or away or to the right – almost never directly at him – but most certainly _very_ cognizant of where Yuki is in a way he never was before. Constantly aware of him, he himself never touching him accidentally or otherwise, you're given the impression that he's tip-toeing around the other. It's such a huge change from the abrasive behavior he had whenever it concerned Yuki, uncaring of what he thought and not giving any thought other than that. You can't help but wonder just _where_ all that energy he normally has must be going.

A little more surprising is Yuki. You still can't forget that heated look he gave Kyo, not for one second. And he continues to surprise you, rattling your view of him into a little more focus. It's almost irrefutable that he's somehow _trying_ to… well, on second thought, you don't know what he's trying to do. You aren't going to pretend to know what his intentions are, and you aren't going to assume what they might be, but you can definitely see that Yuki is much more in-tune to Kyo that he lets on. His eyes aren't as self-conscious as Kyo's, sometimes openly following him across the room or trailing over his features. He's _looking_ at Kyo, though what's going on behind those looks is up for anyone's guess, his face neutral as ever. Still, it's not a look you've seen him give Kyo before. The cat has his attention, and you can barely see it through Yuki's shield.

It's more than just his eyes straying to him, though. There's his _touch_ as well. He somehow manages to make it look accidental or unintentional. His hand will brush his shoulder, his arm will touch him… in one way or another, Yuki initiates some sort of contact with him.

And that's what really gets to you: the fact that you know its _mutual_. Yuki _wanted_ Kyo to kiss him that time, even thought it looked like Kyo was forcing it on him. If Yuki hadn't, Kyo would have been flat on his back in no time – without a tongue. Kyo himself would never just go and _do _that sort of thing – not sober, at least. It just wasn't something he would (or _could_) do. But that's not it, either. The thing is: you _know_ them. Yuki and Kyo are _not_ the cuddly type, nor the overly social, touchy type. Sure, they both put up with contact from other people, but the underlying tension whenever someone gets in their space is there. It's always been there, like it is for most of the Juunshi. With Yuki and Kyo, though, it always seemed to be just a little more… intense. They both had past experiences that made them just a little less friendly towards others.

So, the fact that they can get _that_ intimate, allow the other to come in their personal space and _beyond_ that, sharing touches that would most likely never be allowed to _anyone_, tells you something. You can't say you know how they feel towards one another, but you can say that there is a definite, strong, and substantial amount of _trust _in it. Yuki trusted Kyo to touch him. Kyo trusted Yuki to let him. Everything was mutual, wanted, and craved.

There was no doubting it for a second.

**Review plz? Tell me if there are any mistakes.**


	7. Cravings

******For those of you who notice this before skipping to the latest chapter, everything's been rewritten for the heck of it. Minor details changed, so there's no real need to reread everything if you don't want to. Love you all!**

**Rating: T+****  
****Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even this laptop.  
Chapter Title****: Cravings**

**--Yuki—**

You know that you haven't been looking into things as much as you should. You know that there are aspects you haven't been paying attention to, and with that, some things are slipping pas your notice. One thing is becoming increasingly clear, though: you are getting too comfortable.

The smaller things don't matter as much. Tohru and Shigure don't' seem to notice anything, even when you start a fight or stare at him in front of them. You doubt either of them would notice now, anyway, since you use to do that before as well (with moderation).

Actually, the problem doesn't even concern other people. It's just _you_ with _Kyo_. You're starting to take the fact that you can kiss him without undergoing some sort of physical damage and the ever amazing fact that you've somehow gotten him to _reciprocate_ for a given. Kissing him – the routine _normality_ of it – leaves you content. More so that you should or even have the right to be. You get caught up, and more than once or twice he's snatched your wrist when you reach out to touch him. You're betraying your motives, outrageous as they might be, and you realize that instead of just getting nowhere, waiting for _him_ to slip up as well, you just might end up back-tracking.

And now, after getting through lying to yourself, you must come to terms with your more underhanded side. You have been watching the weather. Not because you're worried about needing a raincoat. Not because you're wondering how team sports might go that day. And no, not because you've suddenly gained an interest in the patterns of weather that appear near your location in some aspiration to become a weatherman. No. You have been thinking (guiltily) about how you can get _touching_ to be a part of that routine you've come to need.

Because you want to touch him. You're more familiar with the cravings of your own body than you've been before, and you're being almost strangely honest about them with yourself. Yes, you want to touch him. You don't want to only feel the roughness of his hands gripping your arms or the hardness of a wall at your back. You want to _touch _him – even if only a little – more sensually than you've been allowed thus far. You know, though, that this is a long shot. The probability that you'll only end up ruining everything is much higher, the chance that he'll simply allow it so very slim.

Therefore, the intention of watching the weather. The weaker he is, the more susceptible he'll be to your advancements.

You don't know why you're willing to take such a risk. Don't know why you would honestly consider to move things further along until you're possibly in over your head.

But hey, sometimes you surprise even yourself.

**--Kyo—**

You won't let him. You simply _will not_, _cannot_ allow it. If he thinks he's going to get his way, he has another thing coming. It's not as if you aren't _already_ intimate enough. It's not like you _haven't _touched enough. Not like you haven't both driven the other to suppressed shudders through kissing alone. Why go further into unknown territory – _unsafe _territory – when you were fine just the way you were? You don't want to touch him – to be expected to would be more than awkward, since you can't even imagine yourself doing so without drawing a complete blank and going red. The thought of him touching you has the same effect. It's frighteningly personal – hitting way to close to home for it to even be considered.

And, though the thought itself makes your head spin with self-destruction, you can't exactly say without kind-of-almost lying that you don't want it. As much as it completely embarrasses you to even _think_ of, you realize through the complete mental disruption that you go through just kissing him that you _do_ actually crave more skin-on-skin contact. The little touches that you do get, accidental or not, are already more prominent in your mind than they should be.

Not that any of that actually matters. You won't let anything happen. Can't imagine letting it happen. No matter how much he tries to slip by your defenses, you know that you will always (have to) shut him down. You can't make room for any of it, and can't afford to let things get any more out of control than they already are. No loopholes, or exceptions – that was just _it_.

**--Shigure—**

A challenge has come your way. A baffling, possibly non-existent challenge with possibly no real conclusion to draw, but a challenge nonetheless.

You have always prided yourself at being able to watch people with an all-seeing eye. You've always had a nose for human nature, and you study them critically, more than often correctly, through small personal explorations and confrontations. With this, you're able to keep track of every aspect of life around you. You don't miss things often, and even when you do, you can _feel_ those little underlying signs that you have. An intuition tells you something in the air is off. Slip-ups happen. _Secrets_ stand out vaguely within the normal way of things.

Well, your dog-senses are tingling, and they're flashing red lights around Yuki and Kyo.

The problem? You haven't much to go on. You can't tell if something happened between the two of them or if their personalities have shifted again. It happened when Tohru came. It's happened to Yuki since he's joined the student council, and Kyo since he's been more introduced to crowds of people. Human beings and their routines are so fickle – so easily changed without any inclination or apparent reason as to _why_ that it's possible there hasn't been any significant happening at all. Not that you can see, anyway.

And _that_ wherein lies the challenge.

So you get to studying. On one hand you have Kyo: bound to mood swings, impulsive in more ways in one, seemingly thick in some matters yet extremely fragile under personal circumstances. Things don't change him easily, you know. He has consistent behavior with most everything, and when it does change, it's usually noticeable right off the bat. The alterations you see in him don't indicate to anything too abnormal. He's become strangely stiff around Yuki. In the beginning, it was a bit more obvious, though you took no notice of it, and now it's lessened considerably, but it's still there. It could be that they had a fight. He could have heard a strange conversation, or even have caught the boy doing something –cough- private. He seems determined, somehow – sometimes frustrated – as if he were keeping something to himself, which comes as a surprise, since he's usually like an open book. There are too many options to consider though, and the figures don't add up to anything promising.

On the other hand, you have Yuki: rather controlled, when it came to his emotions, a little insightful when he tried, trained in keeping up a mask and, like Kyo, very delicate when it came to some personal matters. Changes in him don't come easily, either, though when they do come, they're not always easy to spot right off. The changes you see here are small, as well, but slightly more revealing than Kyo's. He stares at Kyo – more than he used to, at least – with a rather strange look bordering on curious – an innocent expression that you can't quite place. He doesn't seem aware of it himself, sometimes, and when he realizes it, he immediately looks away. It makes you wonder what on earth he's thinking about, but you can't guess just yet. Other than that, you've noticed him starting fights a lot more. He picks at the cat almost ruthlessly, but not blatantly outright – daring jabs that never fail to rile Kyo and are obviously intended for just that.

None of it gives you much headway, but you have enough to make a feasible connection between the two, and if that's what your instinct is telling you, that's what you're going to go on.

**Review plz? Tell me if there are any mistakes.**


	8. Indulgence

******Heeeeeeeeey guys. Sorry for the LONG wait, even after the two weeks were up. I have this thing where i have to rewrite my work if i haven't worked on it in a week or so. Main events weren't changed so much... but there are some minor details that might come up later. It's your choice whether or not you want to read. Anyway, i've got the whole plot line finally figured out after doing some free writing, so the next chapters will come out much easier. I looked over again all that i still have to write, and i must say, this is going to be the longest mulichaptered story i've written so far. OH, and just FYI, there'll probably be a sequel to this story.**

**Thanks to all of you for being so patient!**

**AND thanks to Tsuki no Itsumo's idea for having my chapter titles relate to addiction! That was a BIG help.**

**Rating: T+  
Disclaimer: Fruits Basket isn't mine.  
Chapter Title: Indulgence**

**--Yuki--**

That tired, defeated look hung around him the entire day. His movements were slow and lazy, his reactions sluggish and cataleptic, and you needed to remind yourself that doing anything at school was not in your best interest this time around. So, you were patient. You waited until the three of you returned home – beyond that, you waited through the little nap he took before dinner, alone up in his room where you probably could have done _something_ without needing to worry about anyone.

You figured, though, that since he slept through most of lunch, he would certainly come down for dinner. Figured that he would rouse himself enough to eat a little, and that's why you made sure to finish early so you could go upstairs and start on homework. You figured he would be exhausted still, even with all the sleeping he had been doing that day, and that he would come right back up after he had gotten enough fuel in him to last him until morning. You figured that you would hear his heavier than normal footsteps coming up the stairs slowly, because really, how could you not when your ears were trained on the familiar creak of wood underfoot? You knew he wouldn't notice you opening your door as he opened his, and you waited patiently to hear the weight of his body falling onto his bed.

And you figured that the second you reopened his door and entered, he wouldn't put up a fight.

He's sprawled across the shorter width of his bed, elbows hooked over the edge of the mattress, one leg curled under the other. His head rolls to the side and he sees you, but other than blearily blinking his eyes at you, he doesn't move. He doesn't look particularly enthralled to be in your company at the moment, seeing as how he looks ready to fall dead asleep, but you aren't expected to back off. So he just lays there, silent, giving you a weary, almost annoyed look.

Hesitating isn't what you planned on doing, though, and your step doesn't falter as you make you way over to him. Not that you've really planned at all; all you know is that you are going to take advantage of him, diving in headfirst with the hope you won't hit shallow bottom. It's wrong of you, especially when he's in this condition, and you know it's probably not the best way to achieve what you're aiming for, but your legs move forward resolutely, and your mind is made up.

You push past the slight awkwardness of climbing onto his bed, straddling his hips as he follows you with his eyes. Kissing him is a relief, the little tensions you've built up along your spine relaxing. You press a little harder, and he opens his mouth lazily, granting you free access without a fight.

After a moment of easing your body weight over him, you realize that, for once, you are actually going slow. There's no hot rush of urgency, or any such need for it to be fast and hard like you're used to. He's soft and pliant beneath you, leisurely movements contributing to the kiss with small strokes of his tongue on yours.

You're aware, though, that it's not that he's giving up or giving in – it's just that he's…_relaxed_. His chest is rising and falling gently, small breaths exhaling from his nose, his fingers twitching lightly where they touch the arm holding you above him. It's rather astonishing, really, since you don't think there's been a time in the past month or so when he _hasn't_ been tense around you, especially in moments like this. Of course, you _do_ have to give _a little_ credit to the fact that it's pouring – and again for emphasis, _pouring_ – outside at the moment, but that wasn't really an excuse, was it? He could fight you if he really wanted to, and you take the fact that he hasn't yet for a good sign to continue.

**--Kyo—**

You can't help but relax entirely under the familiar weight of his mouth. Eyes closed, you don't even have it in you to _fake_ a fight, and you're rather thankful that it seems you don't need to. He's not pressuring you for anything, nor heating things up necessarily. Which is good, because you are _tired_. Extremely tired. So, rather than fighting, you're perfectly fine with being amiable for him so that he can get it over and done with, and you can get back to sleeping away the rest of the evening. Eyebrows furrowing slightly, you tilt your head a little so that his mouth slants a little more comfortably over yours. His slow, steady pressure feeds what lazy motions you offer, stirring up a pleasant warmth around you. Almost amusedly, you wonder what he would do if you decided to let his not-so-insistent kiss lull you to sleep.

So, with your nearly catatonic state, it's no wonder that when his hand slips up your shirt, you are already too far gone at this point to care. You can't help it – the rain outside seems to be _picking up_, of all things, and you are ready to pass out, despite the horrible timing. Add the fact that his entire demeanor seems soft and slow, and you actually end up relating the hand sliding over your skin to being pet. Like a cat.

Unconsciously, you end up murmuring a soft 'mm' against his lips in response to the fingers trailing over your stomach. You're fighting a losing battle here…

**--Y—**

Your palm rests against the warm, smooth skin of his stomach. Encouraged by the small sound he makes, you glide your hand up his shirt, craving more. His body arches lightly into your touch, squirming a little as you press him back down, and you can feel your eyelids grow heavier. _This_ is what you've been wanting. This kind of close contact that has your skin prickling with heat and more reaction than you've been getting. You really can't believe how obedient he's being, not putting up any fight at all. He's yielding and compliant… and… slack jawed…

Your eyes snap open and you freeze. There's no change. No movement. Just slow, deep breather. You don't want to believe that it's even possible. The two of you are _making out_ for gods sake. You have a hand up his shirt, something you're completely sure he would _never_ slip past his notice, and you are straddling him on his own bed. _How_ can he possibly be –

Asleep. You pull back, and there he is. Dead. Asleep. Unbelievable. Un-freaking-believable. You rock backwards onto your knees, dumbfounded, and watch as he stirs a bit, swallowing and flopping a hand onto his belly before going still again.

Defeated, and without much else to do, you roll off of him. You can't believe him, and you honestly don't know whether to feel bad for him or insulted by him. Okay, so maybe you _shouldn't_ have tried something during a _downpour_. Glancing out the window, you can see the rain coming down in torrents, and you suppose that you can't really blame him. But hell, how many people can say that they fell asleep kissing someone they consider their enemy, huh? Not even a warning, just dropping right off like that, leaving himself completely defenseless.

…Huh…

You glance back at him, a twinge of guilt going through you at the thought, but find yourself moving closer nonetheless. When else are you going to get a chance like this? Besides, it was his fault for being irresponsible and not rejecting you in the first place. You aren't expected to back off.

Leaning in, you move his hand away so your can replace it – his hand bounces with dead weight off the mattress, but you aren't concerned that he'll wake up _now_. His skin is pleasantly warm from sleep, and you press your palm flat against his stomach, splaying your fingers out. His eyebrows draw together and you lighten the pressure, feeling the muscles beneath your fingertips quiver. A slow sigh has his chest rising up heavily before falling back down in exhalation, and he looks completely at ease. Watching his expression, you start the travel upward, pushing his shirt along with your fingertips, mapping the muscles of his abdomen.

You aren't surprised to find his body hard and lean as always, well-toned from all that training he does. It's been a while since the two of you came to actual fists, and looking at him – _touching_ him now, you're a little uncertain of who would end up winning in a fight. Nothing about him is _soft_, that's for sure, yet you're finding him satisfyingly touchable. Oh, you're sure you're _supposed_ to crave the supple, sweet skin of a female, but you're increasingly finding yourself a lot more attracted to his solid, strong form more than anyone else.

You stroke past his ribcage with a little more intent to tease, and are rewarded with another quiet murmur from him. And you have to wonder… just what would this be like if he was awake right then? Putting aside the fact that he would no doubt stop you, what kind of face would he make? What sounds? The image of him writhing under you, groaning out your name, suddenly pops into your mind and a faint flush rises on your cheeks.

You linger on his chest, searching off to the side until you brush against a nipple. Checking once more to make sure the weather hasn't weakened – it hasn't – you press the nub of flesh under a finger and rub gently. A rough moan works it's way from Kyo's throat, back arching again as you continue teasing him. You're not too sure exactly what it is you want by doing this while he's sleeping, of all things, but _this_ – this kind of reaction – has something in you burning harder.

The sound of light footsteps coming up the stairs makes you jump guiltily – like a child caught with your hand in the cookie jar – and you quickly tug his shirt back down. You recognize the pitter-patter as that of Honda-san, and stand, knowing that you won't get out of the room quick enough for her not to see you. You never go into Kyo's room… she knows that. So why are you in here? Uh… you spot a book from Shigure's bookshelf sitting on his desk, and scramble to pick it up. You have a moment to straighten your shirt and take an easing breath before pulling the door open.

"Yuki-kun?" Honda-san asks upon seeing you exit the room, closing the door behind you. "What were you doing in Kyo-kun's room?" She doesn't seem suspicious, at least. Your thankful that it doesn't seem she's picked up much between you and him.

"I was looking for this book." You tell her with a smile, holding it up as evidence. "I'll return it tomorrow. Don't tell Kyo, alright? I don't want a fight over it."

"Ah, okay." She says, looking momentarily concerned before nailing you with a huge grin. "But you and Kyo-kun seem to be getting along lately! You haven't had a fight in so long!"

"Well…" You mutter, feeling yourself tread into dangerous territory. "I wouldn't call it getting along. More like tolerating."

Her smile saddens a little at that. "Well, that's getting close. It would be so nice if you two could be friends."

"Friends, huh…" Somehow, even though it doesn't seem impossible, the idea of it doesn't feel likely to happen. Anyway, you feel it's time to change the subject, so you move further away from Kyo's door in the general direction of your own. "Were you going to bed, Honda-san?"

"Oh! No, I came to ask if you would like a to have a late night snack with Shigure-san." Now that she mentions it, you can smell some sort of sweet cooking in the air.

"I would love to." There's no way for you to resist that smile. So, with the book still in your hand, you follow her down the stairs.

Later that night, in bed, you wonder just what he'll say to you in the morning, when he realizes that he fell asleep on you.

**So, yeah. I'm still a little awkward with -those- kinds of scenes, so any suggestions or help would be appreciated. This chapter is a little short... but the next ones will be coming out soon. Couple of ending notes, though...**

**So, first of all, sorry for all if there was any confusion on the poll thing. I didn't realize you couldn't post more than one poll on your profile. And that it didn't automatically go onto the profile page...**

**Anyway, i've got a new poll up there now. The one asking what site it would be best to post things that might not be -cough- appropriate for this site.**

**One last thing... is anyone interested in being my beta reader, or does anyone have any reccomendations for one? I think it's about time i got an editor...**

**As always, hope you liked it. Plz review, and tell me if you find any mistakes!**


	9. Overdose

**... -blinks- Woah. The sun is so... bright. HI EVERYONE. WTH Do you all hate me now? I have been neglectful of you readers! I admit it! I have been a lazy, non go-getting writer who reads too much yaoi for her own good and sits around thinking of all the thing she should do but NEVER DOES ANYTHING.**

**BUT! I do have a sort-of-excuse. Poor me, the laptop that we get issued at school SUCKS. It has been wigging out on me and all that, SO i got a thumb drive to store my stories on. BUT guess what? Because i'm not so graceful, I broke it an lost stuff. For this story. The next month, i had my brothers and THE SAME DAMN THING HAPPENED AGAIN WUT. Sadness. On top of that, I have to write a bunch of stupid essays for contests that i won and need to win (cuz i'm just that cool), plus a book to read on my few weeks off. NOT COOL. So as you see, tradgedy has struck.**

**And I'm lazy.**

**So... without further ado, please keep reading my new fairly long chapter of crazy plot-building. As promised, even though there has been a long wait, I do NOT plan on dropping this story like i did Holding Back. I plan for there to be a sequel. HOMG.**

**WTF, can you tell i'm all twichy writing this authors note? I call that my 'Jukebox Mode'. teehee -is shot-**

**Rating:T+  
Disclaimer: I aaaaalmost have all the books dammit  
Chapter title: Overdose**

**_NOTE: I REMOVED THE ENDING OF THE LAST CHAPTER, EDITED IT, AND REPOSTED IT IN THIS ONE._**

**-- Kyo** –

Shit.

Your mind draws a blank.

Not just a regular blank – a complete and utter, nothing there, blank.

Right where Yuki leaving your room should have been.

You think for a second that maybe, by some stroke of luck, it was just a rain-induced dream and that none of what is slowly coming back to you ever _really_ happened. But you can't fool yourself.

_::His slow, steady pressure feeds what lazy motions you offer, stirring up a pleasant warmth around you::_

You clutch at your hair, your face lighting up with the thought. That's enough for you. You don't _need_ to remember anymore, not if it's something like that that only serves to make your insides churn. What the _fuck_ did he think he was doing!? That isn't how things are supposed to work. Not in the least. There's no gentleness or

::_ you end up murmuring a soft 'mm' against his lips in response to the fingers trailing over your stomach::_

You'll kill him.

That fucking bastard – in the space of a second you're more pissed than you've been in a long time. He took advantage of you. It was _raining_, for God's sake. What the hell was he even _thinking_ coming on to you when it was like _that_ outside? It was as good as drugging you, god dammit. You wouldn't be fucking surprised if he _had_ been waiting for a chance like that. All day he was probably watching you, waiting to pounce like some damned stalker. You'll kill him. You'll beat his face into the ground.

But _fuck_, what were you even thinking _letting_ him come in last night? You were practically sleeping before he even started kissing you, so what the hell went through your mind to make you think you'd actually make it through a kiss like _that_? The entire thing just makes you want to ram your head through the fucking ground. All of it. The slowness and heaviness of his mouth on yours. Gentle. Soft.

_::fingers trailing over your stomach::_

You don't _want_ to remember – god, what you'd give to be able to go around as if _that_ never happened – but you _do_ remember, and you've no fucking clue what the hell you should deal with first. You want to kick his ass, that's for sure, but thinking on it, you don't know how you're going to approach him to do that. You don't want to give him the pleasure of knowing just him _touching_ you affected you that much. You don't want it to be so obvious – even to yourself – that things are starting to spin out of your range of control. How the hell are you supposed to get it back when a lot of it (you admit) lies in his hands? Where are you supposed to start?

Or, more importantly, where to end?

**-- Yuki** –

One way or another, it's only ever _you_ who manages to get avoided like the plague.

Kyo's gone already, even though you and Honda-san are still eating the rest of breakfast. He had gotten up before you, shoved some toast down his throat, and thrown his things into his bag as he walked out the door, blatantly refusing to look at you through the entire process. You're not entirely sure how much of last night he remembers, but at least one thing is clear: he is _not_ happy about what he _did_ remember. He quite openly expressed his anger in the five minutes you saw him downstairs, storming through the house with such a dark aura around him that even Shigure sensed the danger and kept well out of his way as he got himself together. The door slammed so hard behind him that you're sure there are cracks in it (again).

"I-I wonder what got Kyo-kun so upset…" Honda-san murmurs, pressing her lips together worriedly around her chopsticks, and you can feel her searching her brain for possible causes. It makes you feel a little bad since it's mostly your fault and all, but you're silent for a brief second. This is where you need to start trailing a bit more carefully. Both her _and_ Shigure know that Kyo went straight up to bed last night, barely making contact with you and only saying a few sleep-fogged sentences to the other two. There was no time for him to get into a fight with you between then and now, and there's no real reason for you to know why he was fuming this morning.

"I'm sure it's nothing." You say, taking another bite of the eggs Honda-san had cooked for you. They scorch your tongue, though, and you have to quickly take a bite of toast to lessen the burning.

"Are you okay?" The brunette immediately asks, looking ready to get up and rush to your aid. "I'm sorry, I should have allowed the eggs to cool down before hand…"

"I'm fine. I wasn't paying attention." You reassure her, glad to be off the topic of Kyo, at least.

Or, well, you _might_ have been off the topic if Shigure hadn't hummed cheerily. You glance up at him to find he's sipping his coffee over a newspaper, looking at you mischievously. You have to stop your eyes from narrowing. A mischievous Shigure is _not_ what you need right now.

"It appeared that he was angry with _you_, Yuki-kun." Shigure says sweetly. "Before you came down, he was just quietly seething away."

Tohru is quick to pick it up from there as you quickly race through possible excuses. "Oh no, did you two get into a fight again?" She asks sadly.

Buying for more time, you sigh, feigning exasperation, _very_ aware of the sharp eyes studying you. "Well, he's always angry with me for something." You say, setting down your chopsticks and standing up to put the dishes into the kitchen.

"He seemed fine when he went to bed…" Shigure continues, and you wish that the kitchen was far enough away that you could pretend you don't hear him. "What would he have to be mad about?"

You clatter the dishes into the sink. "Does he even need a reason anymore?" You ask. "Last time I checked, I was at fault for being _alive_." You try to sound annoyed, beating around the bush carefully so you don't sound like you're trying to hide something. Shigure is suspicious. You can tell from the way he's leading the conversation; a few years of living with him have made you quite aware of the fact that Shigure is _cunning_. He knows how to draw information out. You need to get out that door and to school as quickly as possible. You're definitely going to need to be on your toes around him from now on – you and Kyo _both_.

You return reluctantly to the table to get your bag and your things together. Shigure is about to say something, and you internally flinch, but before she can realize she's interrupting, Tohru suddenly exclaims from the doorway, "Oh! Could it be he's mad about the book?"

You almost let out a relieved sigh. You had completely forgotten about that cover-up. Of _course_ if Kyo knew you'd just gone into his room while he was sleeping and took his book he'd be angry. Carefully, though, you go to the door to put on your shoes, playing it off as if that was nothing new. "Probably. I can see him being upset over a little thing like that." Actually, nowadays he would probably just swear at you, snatch the book back, and go along his merry way.

"Oh? What book would that be?"

…You hadn't looked at the title. Thinking hard, you occupy yourself with getting your shoelaces tied correctly, wishing you were already out the door. "The one the cat borrowed from you." You say vaguely. "I brought it down last night." You hope he'll just take it at that. Then you look at the clock, realizing now that there's a _reason_ to be rushing out the door. "Honda-san! We're going to be late!" You call, not missing the fact that it's usually Kyo rushing the both of you along so that you won't end up late.

Shigure comes to the door, his pleasant smile saying he's only coming to see you off. You seriously doubt that, though, and he proves you right when he continues the conversation. "What did you want that book for?" He asks, and you feel the trap slowly closing in around you.

The next second, though, Honda-san comes rushing in with her bag, tripping and falling over her own feet and effectively distracting you both. Lucky for you, you're able to get the two of you out the door right after without any more questions, pace a little faster than normal that day since you're running late.

-- **Kyo** –

You refuse to relate this to running away, because you're not. You're pissed off, that's all. You don't feel like confronting him just yet, and there's nothing wrong with keeping away so that he can think over what he did wrong. It's school time anyway, and the chances of someone running into you telling him off is much more likely here than it is at home. So, when his footsteps come from the stairwell that leads to the roof, you're sure to very quietly situate yourself where he can't see you and wait until he goes to looks somewhere else. When his voice turns up in some chatty group nearby, you're sure to circumvent him until you're safely in a classroom again, welcoming the distraction of some teacher droning at you. You aren't sure how hard he's trying to get you alone, because honestly, you haven't given him any moment near you that isn't necessary. You're quite sure, though, that he knows you're going out of your way to avoid him. Your eyes have met a few times, and every time you return his hard, almost accusing stare with an angry glare of your own just so he knows that he's on your shit list. He can _wait_ to talk with you for however long you want him to. If he even wants to just talk, that is.

During lunch, after skillfully getting away from that nosy bastard once again, you meet up with Tohru hanging out with that damn punk Uotani and Hanajima. You probably shouldn't be sitting in a place so obvious if you wanna stay out of sight, but you figure that he'll probably be looking everywhere else but here if he's looking at all. Saying hello to Tohru and grudgingly acknowledging the other two, you walk to the corner of the classroom they're occupying.

"Where've _you_ been, carrot top?" Uotani asks, leaning back in her as she looks at you with that annoying half-glare she's got. "You've been freakin' sneaking around all day. Skipping classes too, no doubt."

"Don't mix me in with your lousy bunch, damn Yankee." You growl back at her, flopping down in a chair across from the three.

She flips you off, but doesn't offer any more for a good fight and you leave it at that. Hanajima pretty much ignores you as usual, braiding Tohru's hair, not seeming to mind when she looks over at you worriedly.

"Kyo-kun, are you still fighting with Yuki-kun?" She asks, and you frown. Well, of course she'd be worried about it since you not-so-brilliantly showed that you were pissed off with him this morning. Not the best of ideas, seeing as how that's only going to draw unneeded attention to you both, but you doubt it'll be much of a problem. It's not like you spoke to him about it or anything, so it's not like you have to play it off as anything _but_ a fight. You could think of millions of reasons to be mad at him without trying. Except, while you're thinking this, Tohru picks the conversation back up. "I'm sure he didn't mean to make you angry by taking your book. I know he should have knocked, but you were so tired he probably didn't want to disturb you. Uhm… so don't be too angry with him…" She trails off, shifting a bit and giving you a pleading look.

"What, you're getting all bent out of shape just because he took a god damned _book_?" Uotani demands. "Jeez, Kyon. Loosen up."

You roll with it quickly, putting the pieces together and hoping you've got the right idea. You hadn't noticed anything missing from your room this morning, so you've got no idea what book Tohru's talking about. "That damn Yuki should stay the hell out of other peoples' rooms." You growl, tipping the chair back onto two legs. "He thinks just because he's such a 'Prince' everyone wants to let him borrow their stuff. Pretentious bastard…"

The back of your chair is suddenly pushed and you jolt forward when the front legs of your chair hit the floor, your feet slamming into the ground painfully. You let out a hissing breath as a voice behind you says calmly, "Maybe you shouldn't leave your door open, then."

You whirl your head around to look at him, that damn rat, growling at him as you lean over to rub your stinging feet. You cover up your alarm at having him suddenly show up with a fierce look, trying to convey through your aura alone that you don't want him anywhere near you yet. You're slightly relieved to have been caught with Tohru, at least, since it's better than being alone with him. Only, now you feel a little too trapped; leaving alone could result in him following you, but you're already having problems just staying in the same room as him. "It _wasn't_ open, asshole."

"Watch your mouth. It's not as if you were using it right then anyway." He tells you, leaning onto a desk, smiling at Tohru when she utters a nervous hello, greeting the others in like.

"That's not the point." You snap, irritation running high as he turns his eyes away from you. "Don't just go in other peoples' rooms while they're sleeping, you freak."

He gives you a cold look, and you feel a grim satisfaction at knowing you got under his skin. "You saw me come in well enough." He replies smoothly.

"Like hell I did! I was barely fucking conscious when you came in, bastard." Tohru squeaks at the swearing, and you unconsciously put a lid on the profanity for her sake.

"You were conscious enough, as _I_ remember." Your eyes flash up and lock with his. He holds your gaze.

"Yeah? Well, you've got a sucky memory." You don't' look away, either, and you can feel him pushing at your buttons, daring you to get angrier. You told yourself that you weren't going to bother with this guy today, but that collected look of his is pissing you off, and your mouth is moving before you can think.

"You never told me to leave."

"You should be smart enough not to come in at all!"

"And I suppose you're not intelligent enough to refuse me?"

You're only getting started with the nasty verbal spar you've got going here, but that punk Uotani suddenly interrupts. "Hold it!" She yells, and the both of you turn to look at your little forgotten audience of three. Tohru looks near tears, helplessly holding her hands up in some sort of gesture for you to stop, and even wave girl is watching you carefully. Pointing between you and the rat, that damn yankee leans back and asks, "Are we still just talking about a book here?"

Well, shit.

Roughly, you push your chair away and stand, glowering as you walk to the door. "_We_ aren't talking about _anything_." You snarl, throwing the door open and getting the hell out of there, wondering just what the hell you thought you were doing in the first place.

**-- Yuki –**

Sighing, you push yourself up to sit on the table you were leaning on. That was stupid on your part. You shouldn't have let him get to you like that – or at least, you shouldn't have shown it. Having him get fed up with you wasn't what you needed right then, though you guess it's good that you both know why you're arguing with each other, even if he is more pissed at you now than ever. Hoping that no one has come to any conclusions yet, you refrain from following him out the door.

"U-um…" Honda-san looks wearily upset, staring between you and the door that still stand open on the other side of the classroom.

"Well that was fun. " Uotani-san says sarcastically, folding her arms behind her head. "What the hell got him all bothered? Is he really that big a stickler about his bedroom?"

"No, I'm sure it's just me." You tell her apologetically, thankful that it seems she doesn't think too much of it.

"I dunno…" She says thoughtfully, glancing over at Honda-san. "I though you'd been getting along lately, right Tohru?"

"Well, it did seem like that." She offers wistfully.

Which surprises you. You thought that you'd been getting into _more_ fights with him, if anything. You admit that they came farther apart now, but they certainly seemed to be worse than before and a hell of a lot harder to work around or get through. IN fact, you've been instigating more fights with him lately that you ever have before, so you're not too sure where it is they're coming from.

"Right. That guy used to just shut down the second you came into the room nad you'd both just sit around ignoring each other." Uotani-san continues matter-of-factly. "Now you're getting on each others nerves back and forth like crazy. He watches you like a freakin' hawk, y'know." The confusion must be showing on your face, because she raises an eyebrow and says. "You do, too."

"It's like you're acknowledging each other more!" Honda-san suddenly exclaims, and you wonder at the happy tone in her voice. Haven't you always acknowledged him? You didn't exactly have a choice when it came to him yelling at you or proclaiming his vow to beat you. Yeah, you used to try to ignore it more often, but you felt like there was a whole lot _less_ of that now, so…?

"Exactly." Uotani-san agrees, nodding her head, looking pleased with herself. "_So_! The question is, Princey, what's suddenly got you acknowledging our Kyon, hm?"  
"And vice-versa." Hanajima-san says, speaking for the first time. You look at her, suddenly very conscious of the quiet look she's fixing you with, and you're reminded of her claimed ability to read waves. You look away quickly, trying with all your might to keep whatever feelings you might be letting out neutral, suddenly not entirely sure that powers like that don't exist.

"I'm not sure I know what you're getting at." You respond, looking uncertainly between the other two. "Kyo and I still fight all the time. We haven't been getting along at all."

Honda-san and Uotani-san exchange a quick look. "You and orangey…" Uotani-san pauses, looking for the right words.

"There _is_ a definite difference." Hanajima-san comments for the second time. "The waves you're letting out towards one another have changed."

You feel the hair on the back of your neck rise, and you put a cap on any unnecessary thoughts, though you're becoming increasingly worried about exactly how much Hanajima-san has picked up on already. A quick glance tells you that she's still staring at you, and your voice catches in your throat. What are you _supposed_ to say? You can't exactly explain it yourself. You'd rather die before you tell them – _especially_ Honda-san – that yes, there _has_ been a change in your relationship with Kyo, which just so happened to involve the two of you 'getting to know each other' through some 'minor physical encounters'. _That_ would roll over nicely.

Grimacing inwardly at the very thought of such a conversation, you give them a clueless look, causing Uotani-san to roll her eyes and sit back in defeat. "It's probably nothing, really." You say appeasingly, getting up just as the first bell for classes rings. "I have to my next class now, so I'll see you later." And with a parting smile, you head out the door, trying to convince yourself that two of those farewells were _not_ suspicious in the least.

**-- Tohru** –

You can't help but be worried about them, really. Seeing as how you're with them day in and day out, it's no surprise that you noticed the change in their behavior. The problem is, you don't know _what_ that change is, exactly. Of course there's something different about them - Hana-chan was more than right about that – but you can't quite tell with those two as well as you'd like to. The most you sense is a secret, and it's making their already unsteadily improving relationship falter even more. It makes you nervous; you'd like to know just _what_ is making them so uncomfortable, but you aren't going to push them for anything. That would be rude, so you can only hope that they feel safe enough to confide in you if they ever find that they need your help (though you're not sure what help you might be able to offer, if any).

Between Kyo-kun and Yuki-kun… you're still unsure as to whether this strange atmosphere around them is a good change or a bad change. You honestly think that they could be friends if they only opened their hearts a little more. They're both so kind, especially to you, and you think if only they would try to get to know each other a little more they would _both_ see that being friends would really be wonderful! So, that they're acknowledging one another more is exciting for you. It means they care enough, right? They're interested in what the other is doing, and that really could lead to them getting closer. You're concerned, though, because of the tension around them all the time. Like they're watching the other _too_ much. You suppose things would have to get worse before they get better, since you know both of them have heavier hearts than they let on. You just hope that they can both get through to each other, and have to pray that they don't focus as much on the curse as they do on the person behind it.

So, you decide to stay out of the way as best you can, making sure to be available for them to talk to you without being pushy about it. You've been watching over them the best you can, trying in what little ways are possible to urge them closer together _without_ intruding in their personal business. Not that it's been working as well as you'd hoped. They seem reluctant as ever to be near each other, despite the attention they're giving. Kyo-kun has been flustered a lot more than usual, and even Yuki-kun seems distracted lately; both of them always seeming to be unsettled in one way or another.

"What do you suppose is going on with them, hm?" Uo-chan asks, snapping you back into reality. "You live with them Tohru. Anything happen between 'em?"

"I don't _think_ so…" You murmur, looking down at your lap quietly, not minding the small tugs to your hair as Hana-chan continues to braid it. Really though, when did it start? Uo-chan is right, you live with them and you don't even know what happened to make them like that to begin with? It makes you feel sad, because either you were too busy to notice when it started, when Yuki-kun and Kyo-kun might have _needed_ you to notice, or they were trying to keep it a secret from you on purpose, making you question your ability as their housemate. Either way, it depresses you to think that your loved ones could be hurting right in front of you without you knowing enough to help.

"Hey, hey," Uo-chan says, waving a hand in front of your face. "It's not like it's _your_ fault or anything, so don't worry about it." Her knuckles gently tap at your forehead, and you can't help but smile, a little embarrassed. "Really, though. You gotta be curious," She looks behind you, to Hana-chan. "C'mon Hana, no wave report?"

She's quiet, and her fingers still in your hair momentarily, giving you cause to tilt your head back to look up at her. She's staring off, but when her eyes catch yours, she smiles at you kindly, pulling the last of your hair into it's braid. "They're being cautious of each other," She says vaguely. "Who knows… maybe they are getting to know one another."

"Right." Uo-chan snorts immediately after. "Maybe when pigs fly."

Still, you can't help but feel happy at Hana-chan's words, even if they are a little unbelievable. Despite signs of their getting a little closer only ending in chaos, you have hope that they'll be friends sooner rather than later.

Actually, it's probably this very hope that's keeping your frayed nerves from falling right apart on the walk home from school. Neither Yuki-kun nor Kyo-kun have after school activities today, and you can feel the pressure pushing down on you from both sides as they walk beside you in silence. Just what is it you feel? An ice storm? Anger? You don't know, so you've no clue on how to act in this situation. Should you try to get a conversation going, or would that be too intrusive? You could try getting _them_ to talk to each other, but you're afraid that'll ignite the unpleasant feeling in the air. You feel a little wobbly before you even get halfway, but you can't manage to make yourself speak.

When you get home, you walk through the door a little dejectedly; you're a wimp. No courage at all, and it makes you feel bad. What if you can help? What if your own silence is only going to worry them? Thankfully, walking inside seems to break up the tension gathering between them, Kyo-kun going to sit at the couch and Yuki-kun at the table with his bag.

"Honda-san, are you alright?" Yuki-kun calls to you, and you realize that you've been standing near the door for a moment now, shoes and bag still on, just watching them absently.

"A-ah! Yes! I'm fine." You say quickly, hurrying to take off your shoes, nearly falling in the process. Thankfully, there's no repeat of this morning, and you walk through to the kitchen without any mishaps. "How does Oyako Don(1) sound for dinner?" You ask from the doorway.

"Wonderful." Yuki-kun says, rummaging through his bag.

"Can you keep the leeks off mine?" Kyo-kun's head peeks over the couch where he's laid down, and you're glad to see that he doesn't look as upset anymore.

"Of course! Speaking of which, Yuki-kun, may I pick some from your garden? I don't think we have any more."

"That's fine. Do you want me to come with you?" He makes to stand up, but you shake your head, gesturing for him to sit again.

"It's okay. I can get them on my own." You tell him, though you're thankful for his offer. You walk back to grab your shoes again, slipping them on. "I'll be right back, okay?"

Yuki-kun looks a little doubtful, but he's sitting again. A quick glance shows Kyo-kun watching you as well, "Alright. Be careful." And you smile, glad that they both seem to trust you enough to do this.

Walking there, you can't help but think – maybe for around the hundredth time – how lucky you are to live with such a kind family. Yuki-kun, Kyo-kun _and_ Shigure-san all show you care and support. Through the good times and the bad, you've no doubt that they'll always be there for you, and you've no doubt that you'll always be there for them. It fills you with a happy warmth. As long as they're with you, you don't have any worries, and that's why no matter what, you'll try to make them as happy as possible.

You get the leeks in a small bundle in your hands without any incident in the woods. As you walk back to the house, you wonder when Shigure-san will be home. You hope it's in time for dinner, since he said that he would be back around that time. You could wait, if need be, or you could simply leave some food for him in the fridge or oven, depending on whether or not he gets home before you go to sleep, though you doubt it will be _that_ long.

When you reach the house again, you go in through the back porch so you don't need to trek around to the front door. The door doesn't close the first time you nudge it, and you go to push it all the way closed before you take of your shoes, but you hear a loud _'bang'_ in the next room where Kyo-kun and Yuki-kun were when you left. You wince, tensely slipping out of your shoes. You probably should have figured that the tension would get to them. You shouldn't have left in the first place – now they were bound to be fighting. An angry grunt and hard shuffling on the ground near the living room tells you that easily enough. Worriedly, taking a deep breath to prepare yourself for breaking up their fight, you slip down the hall, heading for where you heard the quieting noises. If you're lucky, maybe they stopped fighting. You come through the door on the other side of the living room, step in and

You freeze, catching your breath and covering your mouth with your hand to suppress the squeak that wants to work its way from your throat. On the floor... they- a blush creeps over your face, and you very quickly work away from the room, back to the door and outside, shutting it with suppressed panic behind you.

Once outside, you lean on the door for a moment, processing what you've just seen. Your face crawls with heat, and you grip the leeks in your hands tightly, your own mind stammering as it tries to come up with an explanation for what you've just seen – tries to get you over the sudden shock of it. They were just… Feeling wobbly, you push off from the door and step down from the porch so you can take a short walk back to the garden.

Just a short walk.

**-- Kyo** –

The door shuts with a small 'click' behind Tohru as she goes out. You're not _too_ worried about her, since the garden is only a short run from the house, and you know that she can get a damned weed by herself, but you can't help but feel a twinge of concern. That airhead always seemed way too likely to get into trouble doing the littlest of things. You're actually surprised that the rat didn't go with her, since most expeditions out to the 'secret base' involved the two of them going together or just him going alone. Especially ever since that one incident out in the woods when Ayame first showed up.

Sighing heavily at the very thought of that damned snake, you place your attention back on the little notebook in front of you. You've got an assignment to do for English class – to write a descriptive composition about a room in the house – and you sure as hell aren't going to do it on _your _room. No matter what you'd write about your room, you're sure that it would only result in _someone_ teasing or commenting about it unnecessarily. This room was good enough, and probably the more interesting one of the house.

After a moment, though, you become aware of the loud silence echoing off the walls, and the suddenly distinct presence of the other person in the room makes you shift uncomfortably. You still don't know quite what you want to do with the bastard, though you think you can feel his eyes boring into the back of your head. You're still pissed with him – you've been making _that_ clear all day – and while you'd definitely like to tear into him, you have a feeling that things won't exactly go that smoothly. Your instincts are stirring, and you can _feel_ the fight tingling under your skin, ever-present even when you don't want anything to do with him, and you'd be willing to bet that he can feel it too He's been trailing after you today, shooting you looks that you shouldn't be able to pick the significance out of. You don't want it to mean anything, nor do you want to _remember_ anything, and you're still trying to decide whether or not you should pretend that you don't.

A minute or so ticks by lengthily until, unable to focus, you make up your mind to move yourself to the roof. You can remember the room well enough, and you've got enough smaller notes jotted down in the margins to write something good enough that the teacher won't jump down your throat. You flip the notebook shut, tucking the pencil through the coiled metal spiral as you stand and turn.

But wouldn't you know it. You didn't even hear the bastard move. Always a step ahead of you, he's standing in the way of the stairs, leaning against the wall and watching you knowingly, arms folded across his chest with an irritated look on his face. He stares at you, and you move your eyes to the floor, glaring and making yourself look as unpleasant as possible, hoping it's enough to discourage him from trying to talk to you. You walk with calculated normality, communicating well enough that you'd rather not give him the time of day.

He sighs as you near him, making it sound as if you're being insufferable. "Exactly how long do you intend to be mad at me?" He asks hotly, pushing away from the wall in a smooth movement, not exactly getting in your way but making it quite obvious that he _could_ do just that.

Without missing a beat, you snarl back at him, "How long do _you_ intend to be an asshole?" He glares at you, but you don't let it affect your pace at all, still making to walk right by him.

You're halfway there when he decides to act. "_Kyo_-" He grabs your arm, pulling with the intent to stop you. Your notebook flaps to the ground, the pencil clattering away.

You jerk away, rounding on him quickly. "Don't touch me, fucking rat!" You yell, and he looks a little surprised for a second before that melts away into irritation, rising a notch as he makes an exasperated sound.

"What, I can't even _touch_ you now?" He asks with contempt.

"You couldn't in the _first place_." You hiss, and his face darkens. That fight is boiling harder under your skin now, anticipating its start before you've even really decided you _want_ to fight. You hate it. And you hate him. _That_ thought is the one that should _always_ be prominent – the prerequisite to _any_ of this. He's your ticket out of the cage. Your enemy. He's the fucking rat; a detestable, loathsome guy who's always gotten everything and left you with nothing. You. Hate. Him.

"Is that so?" He growls at you, and you bristle. "I think we've done a little more than just _touch_, Kyo."

You flinch involuntarily, drawing away though he hasn't touched you or made to do so. _"Fuck off._" You snap, your fingers clenching into fists, feeling a strong urge to throw a punch at him. "I'm sick of you trying to start shit with me, dammit!"

"You certainly don't make it too hard." He says evenly, sounding stuck-up.

"Like hell! You fucking start crap with me right in front of people!" You're getting more pissed off by the minute. Why do you even bother to talk with him? He doesn't understand anything.

"Tch." He gives you a condescending look, and that feeling of being looked down upon only riles you up. "What with your little display this morning, I didn't think you'd mind."

"That because you- !" You stop yourself before you say anything embarrassing, but it's already too late. He's filling in the blanks, and you take another step back, not wanting to get into it. You don't want to know what he's got to say – whether it's excuses or apologies or _whatever_ it is. You want to be done with him if all he's going to do is try to push past the boundaries you've set.

He doesn't say anything for a second, eyeing you carefully, and without wanting to, you're thrust into recalling smooth fingers and cold air where your shirt should have been. You have to fight the flush you can feel creeping across your face as your skin prickles, nearly cringing when you realize he sees it.

"…Because I _what?_" He asks slowly, his stance settling back haughtily. When you don't answer (your face feeling a few degrees hotter) his condescending look gets more pronounced, and you grit your teeth. "Sorry, I have a 'sucky' memory."

An intense silence follows his statement. You'd like to tell him off. Tell him _exactly_ why you're pissed off with him – expose him for the uncaring, disgusting bastard he is. Hell, you want to tell him to go find another guy to fuck around with – he'd probably have more luck with someone else than him anyway, being the 'Prince' and all. You're quiet though. You _won't_ answer to it. That's what he wants; to embarrass you again and make you slip up. He wants you to be angry. Wants you to forget that you _don't_ want to touch him. Your vision gets sharper, the amethyst of his eyes coming into clearer focus, irritation and anger bubbling up inside of you quietly. "You're not going to win this one, damn rat." You inform him in a low voice, and you see his eyes flicker, his shoulders rising just a bit. For a second he looks…

Your fingers twitch.

Then a smirk rises on his face, tongue flashing out to wet his lips before he gives off a dark laugh. "I think I already have, _stupid cat._"

_:trailing over your stomach:_

You lunge at him, your fist flying straight for his face. He deflects it, as expected, but you're ready for the return kick that grazes your side on a backstep, and you're almost sure that the next punch you throw is going to land that you forget to leave enough control to fall back. He's faster than you anticipate – it really _has_ been a while since you've come to blows – and he catches your wrist, turning into your body heavily to pull you around him at an odd angle. Your balance already gone, he lifts you into your own momentum, and you know that you're about to hit the ground _hard_. You have one second – probably less – to throw your arm back towards him, your hand only barely finding his sleeve. It's enough though, your fingers clench in the material and the next moment you plunge onto the hardwood floor with him following you down. You land heavily, losing your breath for a moment when he fuels the strength of the fall and lands on you, and you let out a grunt of pain. One of you hit the table in the hall, and a vase crashes to the ground, thankfully flung away from you, and you've no need to mind it at all.

You don't stay defenseless, though. You're on your guard in a second, and you've got enough leverage as he pushes himself up, hand gripping your collar and grounding into your throat, to swing your fist around at him again. He rears back, but not quite quick enough, and though the main force of your blow is off, he's gonna have a nice bruise on his cheekbone when it isn't red anymore. He glowers down at you, catching your wrist and pushing down, shifting so he can dig a knee into your thigh. You reach up and grab at his shirt with a grip equal to the one still pushing down on your neck. His breath is coming out in harsh pants, and he looks a little off balance since you're actually holding your own, for once. His lips are pressed tight together, glowering down at you like all of this is your fault. He feels heavy, putting all of his weight on you like he is, using it to hurt you. Your leg hurts. So does your elbow, having cracked off the ground when you fell. You hope his face hurts.

Neither of you are moving now. You're staring each other down. His grip on your shirt tightens, and you copy his movements, pulling more of it into your fist. You want to hit him again. You want to push him down and –

…!

His eyes sharpen to a hard steel, the nasty glare he had situated on you lifting slightly as he stares at you, a sudden heat electrifying the air between you. You can feel the pull – there's lust curling around you now, heavy and hot, drawing you to him. You struggle with it for a brief moment, trying to hate harder, stifle it with the reality of your situation – you shouldn't want him like that. He should only be there for your _use_, not pleasure. There's something else struggling in you too though, and it rises up sharply, full of pent-up illogical dissatisfaction. That's all it takes. You unintentionally let your hold on him slip, and the space between you closes with a rush.

Your teeth click together at initial contact. You have to tilt your head quickly to avoid much pain, your lips forced to part for him so his tongue can meet yours. The grip on your wrist tightens to the point of bruising, pushing your arm up a little higher over your head so he can brace himself over you. You can still feel his anger in the harshness of his mouth on yours, pulling away only to press into you at a different angle, the occasional scrape of his teeth making you wince at such a mocking bite.

You bite him back, his response to such resistance tipping your head back, making you feel far too vulnerable as he pulls you into a one-sided fight for dominance, kissing you harshly until you're out of breath, needing to stop yourself from squirming as your stomach does that flip-flopping it's been doing lately.

Then there are cool fingers on your neck, a thumb pushing your jaw up higher, and your eyes snap open.

**--Yuki—**

You pretend not to notice him stiffening, continuing to kiss him as if nothing has happened. He starts when you rub your thumb down his jaw, shrinking away beneath you. He doesn't pull away completely, though, and you push for further compliance.

Your cheek throbs where he actually managed to hit you, fueling your motive to hold him down and give him something to squirm about. You don't know anyone - save maybe your brother and Manabe - who knows how to get under your skin as easily as he does. In a second, you were ready to send him going through (another) wall. Your verbal spars have been getting more personal, and you know that you'll need to adjust to the closer relationship with him if you don't want both of you spiraling off the deep end. That's the thing about getting closer to someone; you know how to hurt them, and they know how to hurt you. You don't think either of you will do much with this information, but you know that the fights you both have are going to be a lot worse if you can't learn to keep it more superficial when it needs to be.

The hand that's gripping your shirt pushes a little in warning, making sure you know you're demanding something he doesn't want. The feel of his skin, as you've found, is just that much sweeter with the knowledge that it's forbidden to touch, so you can't quite help yourself when you keep sliding your fingers against his neck, angling his chin and teasing the warm skin with scrapes of your nail. You find the collar of his shirt, trace it softly, and are rewarded with a shudder and a shift – a small jerk of his body that accompanies the rough way he digs his knuckles into your chest, biting you again. You ignore that, kissing him harder and not giving up this new ground you've gained.

Some part of you has always enjoyed teasing Kyo – you don't know what it is about him that makes it so fun – in the same way you've always found him interesting to watch. It was just one of those things that you do without meaning to. It never crossed your mind that something like teasing him would get you into any kind of trouble. Sure, you meant for it to start fights – to get some kind of reaction out of him – but for this... again, that image of him squirming under you falls into place. Quite suddenly, you're _very_ unaware of your actions, that quiet rush you feel whenever you're with him taking over and giving your body away to instinct. You _want_ him. _Now_.

You push your hips down into his, hand sliding down his chest-

And that does it.

With an alarmingly frantic jerk, his head twists to the side, a hard shove to your front knocking the breath out of you as he yanks his arm from your grip and scrambles backwards a good few feet away from you. You stay where you are, on your knees and rubbing your chest soothingly. That'll bruise for sure.

Still a little shocked from such a panicked – and violent – reaction, you cough a few times, getting your breath back. That's the second hit he's got on you now. Looking at him, though, he looks far from pleased with himself. Far from that smugness he's capable of, and far from that anger that usually bursts from his seams and smothers anyone within five feet of him. No – he's got his head lowered, downcast eyes concealed for the most part, his heavy breathing sounding strangely loud in the now silent room. Your own adds to it, and you slowly register what you just tried to do. Shame prickles your hot skin.

Reality comes down on you like a brick, and you wonder if you've just ruined it.

You lean forward on your knees, one hand reaching out towards him. "Kyo…" You say, meaning to start an explanation, but he flinches away at your voice.

"Don't." He says quietly, making you freeze, and you don't like the way he sounds. There's no _anger_ in it, like you're sure there should be. "Don't… touch me."

He looks up at you briefly, and you lose whatever you were going to say at the look he's got on his face. He's blushing like crazy, his entire face red, giving you a determined glare. However, he's missing that usual zeal for a fight; his shoulders are drawn forward, head lowered so that he has to look at you through his bangs, tense and anxious to the point where you can see his arms shaking.

What…

**-Shigure-**

Humming a small tune under your breath, you make your way to your front door. Today was a good one; after some fun meddling with your editor's mentality, you got all your manuscript in on time and perfected to top-quality work. You'll be surprised if that one doesn't hit the shelves. You open the door, loosening your professional looking tie as you toe off your shoes.

"I'm HOOO-OOOME!" You call out, your ears picking up on a small scuffle of movement and a few short footsteps. There's no familiar, sweet call of 'welcome back!' courtesy your lovely housewife, so you venture through the living room.

You find yourself walking in on what seems to be yet another fight between the two lively boys of your household. Kyo's back is to you, but you can just imagine the nasty look he's shooting back to match Yuki's. They're silent, breathing heavy as they stare each other down, and you're only slightly surprised by the pressured silence in the air, effectively silencing the cheery hello you were planning for both of them to lighten the mood.

"S-stay out of my room, you damned rat!" Kyo yells, the silence breaking on a strangely awkward note, and you offer him a smile when he turns to go by you. "Move." He says tersely, shouldering by you with his head lowered enough so that you can't see that enraged look he gets whenever he gets in a fight. You suspect he's gotten beaten by Yuki again, but you're surprised to find that the other actually has a lovely bruise blooming on the side of his face

"My my, Yuki-kun, did Kyo-kun actually –" Your eyes fall to the floor, following the shape of the overturned table to the shattered pieces of glass on the ground. "MY VASE!" You cry dramatically, painful-looking bruises forgotten.

Yuki rolls his eyes ever-so-cruelly at you as you kneel down, sobbing, to poke at one of the larger pieces. "This is coming out of your bank accounts…" You say glumly, sulking at the hallway in search for any more wreckage. "I just can't leave you boys alone can I? You're always breaking my lovely house."

"Like that's _my_ fault." Yuki says coldly, leaving the hallway for a moment. He returns with a broom and a dust pan, the scrape of ceramic glass filling the lonely hallway in a semblance of a goodbye. "If that stupid cat didn't always get so worked up, none of this would happen."

You stand with a sigh, dropping it. It's not like that vase was anything too important. You were given it from a friend who just wanted to throw it away. It _did_ look nice in this hallway though… After a moment of sullenly watching Yuki clean up the mess, you realize that the 'welcome back' you were waiting for still hadn't surfaced.

"Where's Tohru-kun?" You question, poking your head into the kitchen after following the home-wreaker in as he threw away the glass.

You watch him glance at the clock. "We were out of leeks, so she went to go pick some." He says. "She should be back in a moment." And then goes off to some other part of the house – hopefully nowhere near Kyo. You wonder if you can issue restraining orders so that they can't go near each other…

Musing on this idea, you idly walk down the other hall, planning to greet Honda-san when she enters through the back porch (and ask her what's for dinner, since you're a little hungry).

Something crunches under your foot as you step out, and you look down to find a couple leeks lying there. You pick them up.

'_We're out of leeks, so she went to go pick some.'_

Your eyebrows furrow as you examine them. They still had dirt on them and hadn't been cut down or anything, looking as if they had just been picked. What would they be doing on the porch? You look up, scanning the yard and the edge of the woods for any signs of your brown-haired flower, but she's nowhere to be seen. If she had gone out to get leeks, why were there some sitting right there? Unless she had already been back… and not gone in the house? There would be no reason for her to turn around, unless she'd forgotten something, and even then, it was unlikely that she wouldn't notice she'd dropped these since the logical thing to do would have been to put what she'd gotten in the kitchen. Yet Yuki hadn't mentioned she'd been back once. Curious, you decide to stay there, thinking the thing through. You could just be looking into it too much, but…

"Shigure-san! Welcome back!" A cheerful voice calls, and you look up to find Tohru walking towards you with a bundle of leeks in her hands. Nothing more. "Is Oyako Don okay for dinner?"

"That sounds heavenly." You say sweetly, moving the leeks behind your back as you open the door for her, happy at the polite 'thank you' before you follow her through to the kitchen. You place the hidden leeks in the bundle she put on the sink when her back is turned.

Again, you check her over for any signs of having dropped something, but she hadn't been carrying anything, and she doesn't mention any story of having to turn back for whatever reason. You spend some time in your study quietly contemplating it as you organize a few files that you'll need for work in the next week or so, and are about ready to chalk it up to one of those strange things that just seem to happen around here until dinner comes along.

All through dinner, you notice Tohru sneak small glances at Yuki and Kyo both, nervously keeping up a conversation and blushing at strange times. When they leave, her eyes follow them with an embarrassed, tentative look that continues through until bedtime comes around.

So… she saw something.

Your dog senses are tingling.

**Rock on. Thanks for reading guys. Pleeeeeease remember to review, k? Watching my traffic go up and my reviews NOT come in makes me sad... ish. Anyway...**

**(1) Oyako don is just chicken with egg and leeks. Not sure if the leeks are optional, but WHATEVER. Kyo can have them not be there IF HE WANTS.**

**...8D BTW!!! Have any of you people SEEN THE FREAKING NEW QUIZNOS COMMERCIAL? WHAT THE HELL.**

**Oven: -in a sexy voice- _Put it in me, Scott._ OAO;**

**So, love you guys. I'll try not to be so neglectant anymore. As always, tell me if there are any mistakes since i REALLY hate finding them later on. Just another reason to review, ne? Bai bai!**


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